A Purple Rabbit
by Yugicanbesexy
Summary: In the year 1912 Rose is the wealthy daughter of a plantation owner, Jack is a worker on the plantation when the two worlds collide into a passionate love affair. Will the two be able to run away? Or will circumstances drive them away from each other?
1. A Smile

A Purple Rabbit.

Okay I've been thinking of doing this for a while but I decided to wait and let the story mature in time. Any way let's start please give me your ideas and suggestions on whether I should continue.

Chapter one: A Smile

"Mr Dawson, I must make perfectly clear that you are joining this plantation on temporary measures. The dry season is on its way and I need someone to pick the cotton in the fields. One of my workers left two days ago and he has not returned. This is only through desperation I'm letting you onto my land."

Jack nodded his hands clasped behind his back. He stared at Mr DeWitt Bukater owner and employer on the plantation he was trying to get a job at. He assumed that most men in this position should be fat; cheeks flopped with invisible weights or fingers that looked as if it had been injected with oil. But no, this man seemed as if he was a skeleton with flesh coloured clay pressed over it. At least he had a box of cigars to the right of the desk, so the stereotype wasn't completely abandoned.

He looked around the orderly and well-kept office. This man was as bourgeoisie as they came. His eyes came back to that of Mr DeWitt Bukater when he spoke again:

"Your pay will be withheld until you have earned your food and bed. This should take three weeks."

Jack said nothing in return.

Mr DeWitt Bukater coughed into his sleeve before continuing "your pay will consist of ten dollars a week for your efforts, but I warn you if you don't do your share of work, your wages will be deducted accordingly. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly."

"Very well. You will start tomorrow at the crack of dawn. My overseer McGregor will fill you in. Dismissed."

Jack slowly walked out of the door and closed it behind him. He silently and quickly exited the building from the back.

He walked a few paces in the light orange air; he put a cigarette in his mouth before striking it with a match. The grass was dyed beige from the sun and heat, surrounded by a sea of sand and earth, the sky was always his favourite, many people did not see it past dull blues or greys. Jack on the other hand always saw new shades of colour, the sun dying the clouds around it whites and greys yes, but in the evening purples, oranges and deep reds were splashed across the ocean of the sky making new patterns and colours throughout one evening. When he was a young boy he'd lie on his back in the middle of a field and simply watch the sky perform for him well into the night.

"Jack! Hey Jack!"

Jack looked down from the sky seeing a man leaning against the other side of the fence.

The fence was white and diamond shaped ends, it ran from the entrance to the plantation a couple of miles away and ran parallel around the dirt track before it met the house and went around it. The plantation and the worker's huts were on the outside of the fence.

Jack swiftly climbed over it and met with his friend Fabrizio De Rossi.

"How did it go Jack?" he asked in a thick Italian accent.

Jack slowly blew the last of his cigarette smoke before throwing it on the floor and stamping it out. He put his hands on his waist shaking his head slightly. He heard Fabrizio sigh and covered his eyes muttering in Italian which was too muffled for Jack to understand.

"I only got the job didn't I" Jack exclaimed when he couldn't take anymore, "we're going to Italy my friend!"

Fabrizio was silent for a moment trying to figure out Jack's prank before laughing "I am going back to Italy! I'm going to see my mama!" They both hugged and clapped each other on the back and shoulder making quite a noise.

"That was genius Fabrizio! How did you get rid of the old worker?"

"I only got him drunk and put him on a one way trip to Manchester! We're home free! I am going mama and papa!"

"You bet we are!"

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?" asked a man stepping into Jack's sight line. He was a big man, with big hands and a large face, he reminded Jack of an old stuffed teddy bear, even to his hair which was a thick furry tuft of hair on which a bolo-hat perched on top of it. At first Jack was sure he was the oversee, but this man spoke with an Irish accent and he was sure a name like McGregor would at least deserve a Scottish one.

Fabrizio seemed to know and trust him though for he only laughed and yelled "nothing Tommy, this is Jack Dawson! He's my friend of three years and he's the new cotton picker."

Tommy nodded and walked over to Jack his hand out for him to shake "you look in good shape boyo, a nice firm handshake I like that, I hope you're on my team."

"Thanks" Jack replied in an effort not to be intimidated with the older man.

"I've been working here for eight years, I've seen young men like you come and go. Where are yah going? London? Paris? Dublin?"

"Italy. Florence to be exact, we're travelling to see his family" Jack corrected jerking a thumb to Fabrizio who nodded and smiled.

"Isn't that a thought, men and women from all over the world are selling their arms and their legs to get to America, and you're the only two boyos who are turning around and going back."

"I don't like staying in one place for too long. I like to see things before I go" Jack nodded picking up his bindle slinging it over his shoulder.

Tommy nodded looking approvingly at Jack, he seemed to gain authority and trust wherever he went but he never struck Jack as a man who demanded it.

_RING!  
RING!  
RING!_

"Grubs up!" Tommy smirked, "why do they feel they've got to announce dinner like a God damn ceremony! You ever ate one and a half star cuisine boyo?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Well then you're in for treat! Come on."

Jack was lead to the sound of the triangle that was being rung out away from the house and towards a number of detached shacks that stood on their own in the desert of the plantation.

~::~

Jack sat with his back to a shack as he looked at his 'dinner' and he meant that term very lightly. He had eaten garbage which looked and smelled appealing than this, from what he could tell it was gravy, corn, beef and broccoli all minced together to make a pasty sloppy goop. He stirred the now cold paste with his iron spoon, putting off the eventual moment when he either closed his eyes and swallowed the last of the chewy slimy swill or he threw the rest of it into the bushes and waited or rather hoped that breakfast was a lot more edible.

He was sitting against the shack which was nearest to the DeWitt Bukater house. It was the biggest he had ever seen; it reminded him of a gigantic iceberg in both height and width, the roof and walls were sharp and crooked, all of the dozen windows where shut and drawn giving him the impression that something was happening behind them, the roof was a deep black which camouflaged into the dark sky giving the impression the house was topless.

He watched the moon level above the stars and the clouds. It was a cold night despite the fact it had been humid a few hours earlier. He stood to get up, when he unpacked he could get out his sketch pad and pencils to try and see if there was any beauty in this place.

He highly doubted it though.

He threw the now solid stew into the bushes, tomorrow evening he probably gap at himself for doing that to (mostly) perfectly good food. But for now he was fairly full with the bread and cheese he had eaten in the afternoon earlier that day.

He suddenly heard voices coming from the entrance of the plantation. Jack dived behind the shack; he was unsure whether it was against the rules to be out in the evening. He watched as three women walked towards the house two leading, one lagging behind.

The thing that hit Jack first was that they all had flaming red hair; the first two were slightly grey but all three had it. He watched them, the first two were probably sisters and the other must have been one of their daughters, they all looked related anyway. The one on the end was not joining in with the talk the other two were doing. Jack's eyes followed her, she wore a white and suite like coat and dress, and she also had one of those large British hats which seemed like it belonged on a cart and not on somebody's head.

He must have been boring a hole into her for she turned and looked at him. His eyes met hers, she looked forward and frowned trying to ignore him, before turning back to check if he was still looking at her. He was. He couldn't help smiling at her because of this; she saw this too and looked down embarrassed smiling too.

Jack felt his heart beat as she looked at him with that same smiled, she had now completely stopped and something passed between them.

"Are you coming dear?" asked the older of the sisters, who had now reached the house's warm open door.

"Yes mother" she called her face back to carefully blank, she quickly walked towards the house and stood at the porch.

Jack hoped she look back.

She slowed and paused before she too disappeared into the house.

~::~

Jack slowly walked into the shack, half smiling half in a daze.

"What's wrong Jack?" asked Fabrizio.

It took a couple of minutes for Jack to responded, it would probably have taken longer if he hadn't have realised if his bindle had been opened and half of its contents (including his sketch pad) had been taken. "Hey! Where'd my stuff go?"

It didn't take long before he saw one of the men in the bunks was flipping through his sketches. Jack walked slowly towards it; thankfully it was the bottom bunk so he had the advantage of being the tallest and most intimidating. "That's mine." He stated it simply for he wasn't going to plead and beg for the return of his own property.

The man looked up "this?" he asked raising the pad.

Jack nodded through gritted teeth, he was especially angry that he was looking through the pictures of his brothers and mother.

"This is filth" he was referring to the naked pictures of the French prostitutes he had sketched when he was in Paris last year.

Jack said nothing counting to five for him to repent and give it back.

"Come and get it."

That was the signal Jack had been waiting for. Jack leapt and started to punch and kick the man trying to wrestle the sketch pad off of his grimy hands. The other men all crowded around the two fighting men some yelling fight others merely watching the entertainment unfold.

"What's going on?" yelled an Irish accented man.

Tommy grabbed both Jack and the other man by the scruff of their neck and each hand "what's going on? Break it up!"

Jack stopped struggling when he snatched his sketch book back.

"Do you two want to be whooped? Do yah? If McGregor comes he'll whip us all! So break it up" he dropped the two men "and make up."

Jack said nothing he merely turned away and walked to the empty bunk.

~::~

The next morning he was woken up to the sound of the triangle again:

_RING!  
RING!  
RING!_

He hadn't tried to make friends last night. Probably because all he needed was three hundred dollars to get a boat ticket and he was out of here.

Everyone else in the bunk house was ignoring him, merely treating him like something temporary not permanent. He was late for breakfast because he was busy hiding his sketch pad (under one of the floor boards).

Breakfast today was porridge. Lumpy slimy porridge. He had to marvel why Tommy was generous enough to give the menu another half star. He struggle to give it one. And he had eaten racoon and rat (the latter was in a Chinese Prison…But that's another story).

He walked back to his place beside the shake, he decided he better give the other's space to make their own opinions of him, he was in such a bad mood he couldn't even bear to see Fabrizio today. He didn't know why he was feeling so lousy today; he was fine one minute and depressed the next.

He hadn't been eating long until he heard the front door open and shut. He quickly swallowed the last of the porridge so he didn't look too stupid. The girl from last night walked down to the porch steps and started reading a book.

She was the same girl from last night. Her hair was fierier than his memory could do justice for. She looked a little ticked off for some reason but that merely fascinated him. He wondered if she remembered him…He put the bowl down and made his way to the fence. He slightly leaned over it, she was a couple of feet away from him but she hadn't looked up.

He watched her until she looked up from her book.

His eyes shot to the ground, he was trying to sink into the ground but he couldn't keep his eyes down. They looked at each other again; he felt a smile creep onto his face.

She regarded him before looking back at the book.

He sighed frustrated; he just wanted her to smile at him again. Crazy? Yes. Stupid? Definitely.

He cleared his throat.

She turned a page.

He jumped onto the fence.

She turned her head to read the next page.

He started a mad tight rope like walk on the fence panels.

She cleared her throat and hid her face in the pages.

He jumped down feeling demotivated.

He picked up a rock from the floor.

He aimed…And fired.

The rock hit its target, which was a couple of inches in front of her.

She didn't look up. But instead she reached down. Picked up to rock, she didn't even look up to aim, but she fired and hit him squarely between the eyes.

Jack yelled holding his head, before running back, with his tail between his legs, back to the other workers.

She was vicious.

She was dangerous.

She was brutal.

She was wonderful.

~::~

Tell me what you think! Any suggestions let me know! Please review and stay tuned!


	2. Cigarettes

**A Purple Rabbit.**

Chapter Two: Cigarettes

His eyes had bled with white, the sky had been placid and unblemished, not that he saw it, his eyes were pulled down to pick the cotton, back bent and hands digging and scooping the cotton out of the buds before throne into a cloth sack around his back.

Now as he lay sweating and tired on his bed all he could see was florescent green and white. He heard someone come into the bunk house, he however did not look up, he was too busy concentrating trying to get his sight back and to try and sketch something.

Probably that girl he had seen.

"Oh, Boyo you seem absolutely tired out" Tommy laughed when he saw Jack.

Jack smirked "I have a right mind to write a strong worded letter to our union!"

"Oh you couldn't do that."

"I know, I know. I can't write."

"Not that. We have no union."

Jack nodded trying to act shocked, he suddenly couldn't take it anymore and he started laughing, Tommy laughed also. Tommy sat on his bunk next to Jack's:

"Good thing it's Friday, we get a day off on Sunday. At least we have that to look forward to."

"Yeah, then it's just a couple of weeks until I can finally get paid."

"It's better than nothing…Although I have to admit that this job really is shite. What did you think of McGregor?"

Jack nodded a little before answering "prat."

"We've all come to that conclusion some time or another."

Their laughter only became louder. Soon they lapsed into silence, although it was a comfortable one, Tommy was nodding slightly like he was thinking on something very hard. Jack on the other hand closed his eyes as he rested, it had been a while since he had worked this hard for something so little, he heard Tommy clear his throat, at the sound he opened one eye.

"I was wondering...You know your drawings?"

Jack remained silent, he wanted to hear him out but he was cautious; those drawings were a part of him and held powerful feelings for him. He did not want to give one to Tommy. Tommy waited but after not getting a response he swallowed and asked:

"I think they're really good…I've got a couple of coins saved…Could…Could you draw me?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, he did take requests but he never thought Tommy to be either vain or be so to the extent he part money for such a trifle. "Why?" he asked more curiously than suspiciously.

"It's not for me boyo, it's for me wife, back in Dublin."

Jack blinked before sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his palms trying to get the last of the light out of his eyes, before picking up his sketch pad and sharpened the lead he used for a pencil. Tommy sat opposite him keeping his expression blank and professional; he absentminded pulled his shirt so it straightened out and swatted the excess cotton off of his sleeves, before folding his hands on his lap.

"I didn't know you had a wife" Jack commented when he drew the outline of Tommy.

Tommy smiled through his stone stature "you wouldn't, you've only been here two days. But it's not a fact I like to sing from the trees."

Jack nodded starting on Tommy's unruly hair and bolo hat.

"I haven't seen her for so long. If only you were over there and could draw her for me. We were too poor to have the luxury of photographs."

"Is that why you left? Because you were poor?"

Tommy sighed pulling his bolo hat lower over his eyes "a number of reasons. But yes, one of them was we were poor. Worse than that we were starving and barely keeping our box room each week. I had no choice. I left her for America promising that every penny I earn will go to her. And the children."

"You've got kids?" Jack looked up from shadowing Tommy's jacket.

Tommy nodded at him "the last one I saw was just a babe. The eldest now is fourteen, the next twelve, then seven and finally four. The eldest…My son…Is going to school; he's making something of his life. Unlike his father."

Jack resisted the urge to pat Tommy's shoulder; his eyes looked back down at the paper and continued to add the facial expression of the eyes and mouth. His pencil moved slowly like it was gliding through water twisting and turning with each new line each contributing to the final product.

Tommy regained his composure and looked straight ahead waiting patiently. Jack finished by pushing the last of the excess lead and dust off of the paper before blowing it. His customary finish. He tore the picture out of his scrap book and handed it to Tommy.

Tommy held the picture in his two hands smiling: "it's perfect. You've got a gift Jack Dawson."

Jack shrugged putting his lead back in his bindle, but he held onto his sketch pad. He was not going to let anyone else steal it.

Tommy went over to his bunk and came back with a small sock like purse. He dug in it before coming up with five small coins, he handed them to Jack without a word before leaving for his bunk again this time to not to return.

Jack counted the money, five dollars. He smiled, only $295 to go before he could leave. He'll be gone in no time.

At that moment Fabrizio and a number of other workers came in with a bottle of rum they had saved from last Sunday. They sat with Jack and offered him a sip, which he declined. He liked drawing with a clear head. The four all talked and joked together, but Jack stole a glance at Tommy on the far end of the bunk house, the man sat with his back to him still looking at the picture Jack had given to him.

~::~

Jack walked outside and looked out at the stars, they shone in the dark sky like little candles, he smiled it was cool after such a hot day, and even though his back hurt and his eyes were strained, he felt oddly happy under such circumstances.

He heard a sudden bang of the door that belonged to the house on the other side of the fence.

He looked up and saw her walking out of the house. He thought walk was a bit more dignified than flounce. He watched her mutter something angrily under her breath, he wondered what she was saying, but he hadn't the nerve to try and listen in. He leant against the fence his breath coming out in little clouds as he watched her move slowly down the path.

The lady (for she was a lady to Jack) stopped midway and pulled out a small case of cigarettes, she pulled one out and put it into her mouth while she looked for a match. She found one, but no sooner had she struck it did it get blown out by the wind. This appeared to be her last match for she let out a strained growl which Jack remembered hearing from an alley cat in the shadows of Paris. She turned and looked at the house again, but she turned away. It seemed going back in was no option.

She turned and saw him looking at her, they couldn't have been more than a couple of feet away, she jumped back surprised that she was being watched. Jack looked at her with the same expression Tommy had, curious as to what she will do next.

The lady looked down at her cigarette and pulled her dignity and composure together "have you got a match?" she inquired in an eloquent voice.

Jack blinked at her before saying "have you got a cigarette?"

She didn't seem to like this, but she reached back in the case and pulled one out. She walked towards him (which was three steps) and handed him the stick. She didn't seem to like this either but there was nothing Jack could do.

He took his cigarette and put it in his mouth; he motioned for her one which she handed to him too. He put hers in his mouth also. He took a match out of his pocket and struck it on the fence, he cradled it from the wind before lighting his and hers with one motion being blown out in the same second. He handed her cigarette back and took a puff of his.

She didn't seem to like the fact he had put hers in his mouth, but she didn't seem to have a choice in this matter either.

She took a puff wanting to get out of this situation.

He remained motionless only gazing up at the stars at odd intervals.

"Thank you" she finally said stubbing out the last of her cigarette.

This surprised him, he was sure rich people never said thank you, his father always said that was a poor man's word.

He didn't know what to say but he wanted to hear her speak again. Like rain drops he thought. He cleared his throat of the excess smoke "Jack. Dawson. I'm Jack Dawson."

She nodded her back against the fence, she wanted another cigarette but she didn't have the nerve to ask him for another match.

Jack waited for her name but she made no effort to part with it. "We've met. Before. We've met before this night."

"Have we?" she asked not really interested.

"Yes. You threw a rock at me."

The woman turned to look at him slightly smiling "oh, I apologise for that." She turned so now she was fully facing him.

"I probably deserved it" he grinned.

She found herself smiling at him, which was becoming a rare occurrence in her life.

He slowly tapped the fence with his fists making an odd rhyme. He was feeling more and more hotter by the second. "What do they call you?"

She looked at him before shrugging.

"What's your name?" he asked slightly falling back on his heels.

"Miss DeWitt-"

"Yes, yes, but what's your name? What do people call you to tell you apart from the other ladies in the room?" though he doubted anyone could mistake her for anyone else, with her firey red hair and her dark blue eyes…

"Nothing for you to worry about."

Jack blinked "what? Why?"

"My name is the only thing which I own in this world. I don't want to part with it rashly."

"Do you say that to all the guys you meet?"

"Only the poor ones."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Many happy returns."

He knew he was on thin ice, but he didn't care. This was too fun.

"So, I have to call you Miss DeWitt something or other?"

"Miss would be adequate."

"You might need to write that down for me."

She laughed slightly, although she muffled it with her hand. Jack laughed also although he wasn't as good as hiding it as she was.

"Jack? Jack?" Fabrizio was calling him from the bunk house.

"I've got to go" Jack said turning away.

Miss DeWitt Bukater nodded bowing slightly "by all means Mr Dawson."

"Jack."

"I hope to see you again soon" she held out her hand to him.

He couldn't tell if she meant it or not, whether she was being polite or genuine, you can never tell with rich people.

But he took her hand and shook it "thank you, I hope to see you again too" he felt a little ashamed clasping her smooth petite hand in his rough one but he had to put up with it.

"Jack!"

"Coming!" Jack called, he turned and smiled at her, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a match for her and put it in her hand before running off.

Miss DeWitt Bukater stood where she was for a couple of minutes before walking back on the dusty track; she struck the match but couldn't catch it in time because it went out again. She sighed and put the last of her cigarettes away. She sighed, she had no choice, she turned around and slowly walked back to the house.

~::~

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	3. Out Again?

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Three: Out Again?

She had lied to him.

She wasn't upset or spiteful, she had just done it.

She had lied to him when she had said she did not part with her name rashly, she had meant to be mysterious and proud, but it was a lie. Maybe she leapt at the chance to not be known to every man, woman and child in the room, or the fact she could control _something _in her life.

She lay on her back on a swinging chair; she knew she'd get white flicks of paint from it because the seat was now very old.

She hated her name anyway; DeWitt Bukater made her sound like a French cat. She swung the chair with her hand using the grass underneath her to push it to and fro. She imagined herself as a white Siamese or perhaps a Persian cat which would sit on a purple silk cushion from dawn till dusk until it was too stupid to do anything else.

That's what she described herself as: stupid. Yes she had an education which most would die for, but it didn't mean anything! To know dates of battles and kings, read _countless _books on good wives and widows, know equations both scientific and mathematical, all meant absolutely _nothing _to her. They provided no escape for her and she doubted they'd ever will.

Her first name was worse than her last name, it merely objectified her more. True you could call it a beautiful object, probably the most beautiful object in all of the world, but it was still an object! You could dress it up and polish it until it shone but she was an object in both name and occupation.

She pushed herself to and thro silently as the chains which held the chair up by a tree, squeaked with rust and decay. Her mother would have a fit if she saw her doing this. Aside from the rusty chains, the bench was barely holding under her weight and if any bits of paint got tangled in her hair she'd have her mother screaming down her ear for another three days.

Her right arm lay lazily on her diaphragm as she looked up at the sky. It was midday and the sun was hiding behind a mass of clouds which all clustered together in the middle of the sky. Usually she didn't have time for clouds because they looked too serene and like the hundreds she had seen in various paintings and photographs. But today was different, the clouds were slowly moving because there was slight breeze in the air, and the different shades ruined the illusion that the sky was flat and instead showed it to be three dimensional.

Her mother was calling her name but she chose to ignore it. She hissed slightly. She hated it when her mother said her name in such a whiney and needy way.

"There you are!" her mother declared as she stumbled into her sightline. "Get off of this bench and get inside before you get a tan this instant!"

She swung the chair again and kept her eyes levelled onto the sky. She didn't have the nerve though to swing too hazardously and hit her mother with the chair.

Her mother huffed "fine! Be like a petulant child; just make sure you are present, and decent, for afternoon tea. Then we can talk in greater detail your father's proposition."

She hated her father.

She hated her mother.

She hated herself.

She carried on swinging but this time more violently and with less grace. It was a miracle that the chair didn't give out at this moment of abuse.

~::~

She sat on the bench with an illustrated art text book flicking straight to the picture section. This was an old copy she had stolen from her recently departed boarding school. This copy featured more radical artists like Monet and Picasso. Her eyes scanned the paint flicks of _The Old Guitarist_ which was both effortless and calculated, the bent almost crooked motion of his back made her irrevocably identify with his misery.

It was probably some luck she wasn't discussing this with anyone else, she had the tendency to become so wrapped up the art she'd have no thought for the receiver who'd either roll their eyes at her passion or start laughing when she tried to make sense of something as incomprehensible as _Picasso_.

She heard someone clear their throat which made her look up expectantly. However this came from the wrong side of the fence.

The boy from the other night was standing with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. She wracked her brains trying to remember his name but nothing came.

He grinned at her.

She ached to grin back but her awkwardness and pride stopped her from acting. She instead put her nose back into the book.

He hung around for a few seconds more before he was called away for some reason or another.

She despised herself for looking up to see him leave.

She would_ not_ be drawn into his charm.

~::~

Jack sat outside; it was early evening and still stifling hot. He was drawing the house with his sketch pad, the long harsh angels the roof and walls had and the icy paint which was perfectly even. He heard a slight cough beside him; he turned and saw the ginger burnt individual which he had earlier called a prat.

McGregor cleared his throat. "You should be in the bunk house" he informed in an impatient voice.

Jack looked up silently at the see through moon "it can't be seven" he asked in a mock shocked way.

"Don't be clever with me boy."

Jack said nothing but stared back at him. He calculated what would happen if he said what was going through his mind. He cleared his throat "I doubt that would be very hard, considering the smartness level has been pulled down so low."

He was rewarded with a whack in the jaw by one of McGregor's massive club like fists and pulled up to his feet by the scruff of his neck.

"Be wary boy, for I don't like be smarted by the likes of you" he dropped Jack so he was on the ground.

Jack chocked slightly, he felt a horses riding crop being shoved into his face, "I wouldn't want to wreck that pretty little face of yours boy, so if I was you: I'd start acting a little nicer. I'll be back in half an hour to check on you. You'd better be gone." He spat on Jack's face turned on his heel and walked away.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. He resisted the urge to throw a rock at the block head. He sat up again and straightened his collar before starting to sketch again.

He had been out for the last three nights hoping she might once again come out of the house and talk to him. Not that he had anything to say to her, but it passed the time waiting for her. Just two more weeks and he could start earning and then a mere four months and he'd be skimming the blue waves all the way to Florence with Fabrizio.

Jack gently flicked the page with the pencil lead adding the finishing touch of the house. He smiled for a moment letting himself admire the picture for a couple of minutes before turning over and starting afresh. He looked around for inspiration but having found non he went to his default sketching whenever there wasn't anything present for him to draw: rabbits.

One,

Two,

Three,

And four.

He was just shading the second one with a hint of grey and dark markings when he heard slow footsteps going down the dusty lane. Immediately he looked up and saw her walking down it. Without looking down he put all of his pencils in the sketch pad and shoved it under his arm while walking towards the side of the fence.

Once again she did not look up and was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to see him.

He watched her for a while before deciding to clear his throat to let her know he was there.

She turned and looked at him for a split second before looking on straight ahead and walking on. Why did she do that to him? Ignore him and treat him like he wasn't there.

"Good afternoon" he tried to be civil; he had to show her despite his clothes and his rough boots underneath that entity he was a clean gentleman as shiny as a new nickel.

She looked up again, her dark blue eyes catching him behind her long fringe "good evening" she corrected him.

He nodded before fishing in his pockets and pulling out a cigarette.

She looked at his hand then to his face then back to his hand again. She sniffed, the mist giving the impression she was a perturbed mare.

He slowly withdrew his hand; he jumped onto the fence and looked at her. He smirked suddenly and lit a cigarette and took a smoke. He waited for a moment winding her up a little. "You don't like me do you?"

She looked up at him "I don't know you. How can I hate you?"

"I didn't say hate; I said you don't like me do you?"

She, so as not be undone by her inferior being, crowed back "I like you as much as you like me."

Jack's laugh was her response, he grinned to show she had won that argument. She hid her face in her hair furiously so he couldn't see her blush.

"Very well. I suppose that is a fair point. We are two total strangers who just happen to be out this evening."

"Indeed."

He smirked, rolling another cigarette he held out this one for her to take too. This time she took it and lit it with a match he held out for her. She stood with her back against the fence looking out at the flat endless land before her.

Jack blew out his smoke with a shivering breath "wouldn't it be more comfortable for you to be the nice, warm house?" he asked.

"No."

He waited for her to elaborate but she did not.

"Family gottcha down eh?"

"You could say that."

"What else could I say?" he asked with a grin

"None of your business."

Again he laughed at her response but now her patience had run out with him.

"What's it to you if I go out at night? You don't know me! This is my father's land, not yours, so as inherit owner of it I can go wherever I want! Besides, what are you doing out here? Enlighten me first and then I might tell you why I'm out here!" she snapped at him, she felt suddenly oddly close to tears, she had had a hard day and the last thing she needed was_ him_ ordering _her_ about.

He took her in and gulped, he slowly swung the cigarette with his tongue before fishing out his sketch book, "I sketch see. I don't do it for a living mind. But I'm told I'm good."

She looked at it turning her head to see it, but she did not turn her body even slightly around.

"You like art don't you?" he asked leaning forward to look deep into her eyes.

Her eyes shot to the floor, "you could say I take an interest in it."

He nodded trying to keep his expression neutral as she tried to compose herself a little, he didn't know how he had done it but somehow he had deeply upset her, or touched a very raw nerve.

She slowly turned the pages of his sketch book half heartily; she half expected to see blotchy sketches or possible stick men with crude names over their heads. But these were actually very good.

"Did you get taught anywhere?" she asked expecting no answer to the question.

Jack smirked "I don't really come from a background where I can afford an education. But I did learn a little here and there from Paris."

She hid her face in her hair so he could not see if she was impressed or not. "Paris?" She commented turning a page, "in what style? Cubism? Sculptural? Still life? Abstract?" She was showing off slightly with him which made her feel a little easier.

"Um…Still life? I draw people who sit…or lay still for me" he corrected himself when the lady came to a naked one legged prostitute who was lying on her back in a bed.

The lady cleared her throat and turned the page.

"Have you ever been to Paris?" he asked swinging his legs as she turned another page hastily trying to find a picture that _wasn't_ of a naked woman.

"No."

He was slightly taken aback by this. Didn't rich people go everywhere? They got bored of the place they bought so they go and try and find something else to buy?

"Have you been anywhere?"

"Aside from boarding school? No."

"Why not?"

"Mother gets nervous of ships and Father says it's a con and a waste of money."

"Oh."

"But I plan when I'm married I'll go to all over the world and see everything."

"Why don't you go now, alone?"

"Because I'm broke."

Jack snorted.

She huffed "my Father has all of the money in the house, I don't even get an allowance, I use money like breathing air but I've never actually owned money or held it in my hand" she explained patiently.

Jack nodded but wished he could shake his head. He'd never understand rich people.

"Rabbits." She commented looking at the last sketch of four unfinished but detailed rabbits.

Jack chuckled slightly from embarrassment "yeah, I got a thing for drawing them."

She nodded admiring the smooth and gentle lines of their eyes and faces.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one."

"Very well. Twenty one."

He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Nineteen."

"A honest question deserves an honest answer/"

"Fine. I'm eighteen. What about you. How old are you?"

"I think I'm twenty, or maybe I'm twenty one…I can't be certain."

"Why are you unsure?"

"I stopped counting after my thirteenth."

"Why?"

"That's when my folks died. They died of a throat infection dip…dipfi…dipfia…"

"Diphtheria?"

"That's it! My father got it, and my mother tried to nurse him back to health, but she ended up catching it. They died within three months of each other, I was the eldest but I still could not get a job, the youngest of us were taken to an orphanage, but myself and my second older brother managed to escape. I haven't seen any of my other brothers or sisters since. My brother and I stuck together for a while going from job to job, town to town. But one day we had a fight. I hope it was important. But the next day he was gone. I was alone for the first time in my life; I was so sad and alone, walking through endless dusty roads and plantations. I was starving and broke too so I was sure I didn't have long for this world. But then one day I was sitting on a dirt track waiting for something, a cart or maybe a stranger to beg from, but suddenly a rabbit came running over to me. I watched it for a while as it moved with its friends and family across the grass meadow…It's hard to explain, but I found peace while watching them, I learnt as long as there is life somewhere, there is always hope, and beauty is in the most unlikely places. I still sometimes hurt about my family, I wished I tried harder and stuck with them longer, but if I remember that moment I always feel happy because there is always something, no matter how dark or how hopeless, there is always something to be grateful for" he blinked as he smiled at her "you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"

She smiled at him, the smile that had made him pursue her affections the first time he saw her, "I wish I did" she confessed.

He found himself smiling despite the ache in his chest he always got when he thought of his brothers and sisters, mother and father.

The woman looked at the house "I have to go, thank you Mr Dawson-"

"Jack."

"-For showing me your sketches. You have a gift."

She gave him back the book, she turned to leave. He suddenly grabbed her hand in his, she turned a little shocked, "what's your name?" He asked genuinely.

"I must go."

"Tell me it first" he demanded.

"No." she smirked.

"Then I won't let go."

Her smirk never faltered as she gave him a shove in the gut. He was already sitting precariously at the edge of the fence so this shove made him overbalance and fall back his arms swinging wildly before landing with a thump on his back.

She laughed despite herself; she quickly covered her mouth before walking back to the house without looking back.

Jack struggled into a sitting position; he had to watch out for her bursts of spontaneous moments of brilliance.

~::~

If you have any suggestions please send them in all is welcome. Please review!

I'm sorry this is late but my exams start next week so you can imagine the amount of revision I'm doing in my spare time. Sorry!


	4. Frogs

**Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Four: Frogs

She wished she knew who she really was. She didn't know herself; she wished she could find her true character. She wasn't her father, she wasn't her mother she was just her.

"Tell me a bit about yourself" he pleaded to her.

She couldn't believe she was doing this again, three times in a row was really 'asking for it' as it were. She turned to look at the man which seemed to be plaguing her most. She flicked the cigarette away. How could the days be getting hotter and hotter, but the nights were remaining below freezing?

"What do you want to know Mr Dawson?"

"Jack."

She hadn't played a joke on anyone before. It was fun. She held her smile back though. It would not do…

"What do you wish to know?"

"Your name for starters might be a help. I don't know what to call you." He leant and puffed his breath like a horse, his raw looking fingers shakily gripping his own cigarette.

"Next."

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, it was too tiring trying to understand 'woman' so late in the day.

"I will miss our conversations" he smirked cheerily, "I've never had such a cryptic conversationalist. I feel smarter every time I see you."

She raised an eyebrow, but her pride could not this time stop her curiosity "where are you going?" she asked.

"Italy. Florence to be exact."

He saw her eyes flicker into his for a split second. He had ensnared her, finally something that indicated to him she had a working heart! "I can start earning soon, and then in four months I can start off for my new life."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"It could be just the same over there as it is over here."

Jack laughed "that's impossible. All places are different, everyday an adventure, to find something bigger than your own life, to be inspired and loved every day while out there…This is merely a stop gap."

She raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. She fished in her bag and pulled out another cigarette and started smoking again.

Jack looked at her for a long time before clicking his red fingers "I got it. You smoke when you're upset."

"Get over yourself."

"That's it! You don't come out every night because you're not upset every night."

"No, I don't come out every night because I run out of cigarettes or their confiscated from me."

Jack faltered slightly, "how come?"

"Mother's got it into her head their bad for your body, some stupid faze that smoke damages your lungs. It's all a con; cigarette smoke is just as deadly as smoking a lead pencil."

"You're changing the subject. Tell me a bit about yourself."

Her patience was non-existent now "what?" she hissed in a strangled tone.

"Have you had any friends?"

"No."

"Not one?"

She had had acquaintances when she had gone to boarding school, she had smiled and giggled with them as they gossiped about the other girls in the school, but in reality she despised them all and she knew they for her. It was all a power struggle, it that way boarding school was preparing her.

However…

She chewed her lip "no. I have had no friends in my life. No true friend that is."

Mr Dawson stared at her. He tried to lean forward on the fence to see her face, to see her expression. He wanted to see the hurt on her face that he could not hear from her voice. Her back was to him, and her curly red mane was blocking him.

She had lied again. She had never so much as said maybe to a question and now she was lying through her teeth, probably there was no other person she was less trustworthy and yet more enthralled with than this one. And now she had secrets, heck, someone who didn't know every _minute _detail about her, before her and now she was going to bask in the luxury of lying until she became so submerged with lies she could come imagine a different her, and maybe become someone new. Someone she liked.

She blinked, looking down. Anyway…What had she lied about? It wasn't even a good lie. She had had _friends_ when she was a child. They were all made up however.

When she was young, she forgot how old, she used to cut people out of paper. She couldn't draw, she was never a creative type, but whatever she could get her hands on, magazines, leaflets, even newspapers; she read from cover to cover looking at the people intently, any that caught her eye: a beautiful lady, a funny looking man, a monkey with its tamer dancing gaily to music, she snip out with her mother's sewing scissors.

She knew they weren't real, she wasn't simple or remotely unintelligent that drove her to her crimes. It was loneliness. She was the youngest in a long line of unsuccessful pregnancies, she was the 'last chance baby', she wasn't born a boy, but beggars could not be choosers at that stage. She was stuck on an island of cotton, the nearest ranch being twenty miles away. She had cousins, grandparents and endless aunties and uncles, but these were unusual visits on sporadic: 'we were in the neighbourhood' affairs. Thus she had no one to talk to in her lonely life.

Her mother wasn't emotional, she seemed to have the notion that children as a race was conspiring against the adult race, thus their problems were miniscule and they were only after your precious time which was ticking away. She had more sense than to seek companionship with her father.

She had more sense than to show her parents her paper dolls. They were hers. Not there's. They knew however. Her mother would see in the bins huge holey magazines, and then complain that it cost money and anyway it was hers so her precious daughter had to leave it alone. Not that is stopped her. Her mother's punishment was doses of bitterness when she remembered to administer it. Her father was much worse on so many levels she had never dared count.

It all ended however. She had done it to herself; she had shot herself in the foot as it were. She had had a children's fairy tale book. The book had beautiful illustrations. Her favourite was of a long haired brunette princess with a pearl pink dress, she was in a grey bricked tower, and surrounding it was a crimson red dragon. She had done it. She had cut out the dragon. As soon as she did it she felt sick. She held the slick blood red offending ornament in her hands. What had she done? She hid the book in her bookcase and shoved the dragon under her mattress too afraid of its discovery to throw it away. The dragon looked so upset in the book, its face contorted into a grimace as it blew fire at the walls of the princess's castle. Maybe she had done it as a maternal instinct for it, or because it looked as lonely as she was.

Whatever the reason it was done now and it was only a matter of time before it was discovered. It was not if, it was when. A maid had checked under her mattress and found the cut out; she checked the book and saw what had been done.

Her father was furious. Worse than furious, manic, enraged, incensed, infuriated etc, etc. He had gone up to her face as screamed as her why she had done it.

She hadn't answered quick enough. She was too scared.

He took the book in his hand and hit her hard across the face with it.

For days after the left side of her face felt cold and stiff even after the mark went and the burning sting of it.

It was a month later she had been taken to boarding school. It was her mother's way of protecting her and it was her father's way of punishing her. She didn't care.

She had stopped caring a long time ago…

Jack watched her as she stood motionless against the fence. He stood back, he had no idea what she was doing and why she was doing it.

He cleared his throat "well, I'm your friend. If you wanna be my friend."

She looked at him at last. How old was he? Eight? On second thoughts stupid question. She rolled her eyes at him in response.

Jack huffed before chucking his last cigarette away "fine I don't want to be acquainted with rich people anyhow."

She decided to take the bait "why?" she asked drearily but was still looking into his light grey eyes.

"Because rich folks are weird and disgusting."

She reared back like he had slapped her "how dare you" she snapped "how dare you speak to me like that" she became more enflamed when she saw him patiently wait for her puffing his breath slightly.

"I can prove it."

"Oh enlighten me, show me the way!"

"Rich people…Have sex with animals."

She let her mouth hang open. She stared at him horrified by his accusation "I can assure you that under any such circumstances-"

"I've seen it."

"Excuse me!"

"I've seen it. In a book."

"A book? What book?"

"I saw a woman, kissing a frog."

She blinked at him "excuse me."

"I saw a woman in a long dress kiss a frog she had found in the pond. She was rich. She was wearing a crown."

She found herself snorting, she was still in shock however and she wondered whether she was having some kind of break down. However she cleared her throat "I take it…This frog was wearing a crown as well."

Mr Dawson blinked at her "how do you know? Is it some kind of ceremony-"

"It was a fairy story you complete and utter imbecile!"

He blinked at her "a fairy story?"

"Yes" she cried exasperated "made up, fiction, _literature_!"

"So you rich folk don't-"

"NO!"

"And I just-"

"YES!"

Jack blew his cheeks up and took out the stubbed out cigarette from the floor and took one final drag. His face felt flushed; when he looked over she looked flushed also. He slowly half nodded and half shook his head like his shoulders were weighing it.

"I guess you learn something every day."

She screamed and covered her eyes. She was exasperated by him. She couldn't take much more of this!

He smirked after a while. "I'm sorry. It was rude of me for bringing up such a delicate subject with you."

"Damn straight" she said muffled by her hands. She wanted the ground to swallow her up whole.

He gently patted her head with his hand, "I didn't really believe it anyway. I was just-"

"Please can we leave it?" she asked dying loudly.

"Very well…Tell me a bit about yourself."

She let out a low groan which made him smile at her.

"I'll take that as a no."

She remained quiet.

He nodded silently his hands dug into his pockets again. He suddenly saw the funny side of it and started to laugh. He had blown his foot off trying to impress her and had been proven wrong by her; he might as well as punched her mother in the process.

"I can't see what's so funny" she muttered sternly looking up, but she couldn't keep a straight face. She covered her mouth as a chorus of giggling came from her mouth. The two stood on either side of the fence but found common ground of a joke. Not even a joke a bad situation gone worse.

When they couldn't take much more (their sides and chests both hurt) they wiped the tears from their eyes and sighed.

"I guess you must hate me" he smirked.

"Indubitably."

"Huh?"

"Yes."

"Can I be forgiven?"

"Maybe."

"I'll work on it then."

Just then the house lights at the front of the house on the highest floor went one.

She looked at it warily.

"I've got to go" she said walking away from the fence without a look back.

"Wait! When can I see you?"

"I don't know" she was looking down at her feet as she spoke still moving back to the house.

"Will I see you again?" he called when she reached the door.

She looked at him a little unsure herself what she would say to him, as she opened the door she muttered something:

"Yes."

Jack smiled as the door closed. She liked him. She liked him, liked him, liked him. He wanted to hug himself, serf a rainbow and jump up into space and kiss the moon all because: She liked him!

He turned to go but as he started walking he heard shouting from the house.

He turned back the shouting being a man's voice.

He couldn't hear hers; maybe she hadn't anything to do-

He heard a sound, a harsh noise.

A slap.

Someone had hit someone inside the house.

He saw lights trail up the stairs to a room fast like it was somebody running. His eyes followed the lights until they halted in a room just above the fence.

He saw her shadow. Maybe this was her room. He saw her shadow hold her face.

Nursing her cheek.

~::~

I'm glad I finished this in time (and on time if I do say so myself!) Thank you for all of those lovely reviews so far! Again these chapters have very little agenda so any suggestions please let me know! All is welcome, more Jack interacting with his friends next week I promise!


	5. Poker Face

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Five: Poker Face

"And that, gentleman, I believe that I have won" Tommy chuckled pulling all of the coins and valuables towards him.

The other three men who were kneeling around the small table in the bunk house covered their foreheads and slapped their arms as their months wages had been taken away. Tommy chuckled and put them all into his sock.

Jack sat on his bunk; he held his wages for his three weeks work. Two five dollar bills. He held them up above them as if to inspect them. He stared at the cracked and ragged pieces of paper, so useless and yet these men were treating them like gold bars.

"What about you Jack?" asked one of the losers at the table.

He turned and looked at the group of men. Fabrizio was lying on the top bunk above Jack; he poked his head down and stared at his friend. He knew Jack had a good hand at poker but Jack had seemed down lately and he doubted he could concentrate enough to win.

"Leave him be" Tommy said slowly waving his hand and the other three men, "he can do the smart thing and keep him money. Unlike us lot who have our backs bent over cotton he's got his eyes still on the sky."

Jack looked at Tommy thankfully giving him a small nod of appreciation before turning back to his money.

McGregor put his head through the door scowling: "yer men had better not be gambling in ere" he asked putting his large hands on his hips. "Cause' if yer are, there'll be hell to pay" he threatened holding a long horse riding crop in his hands.

Everyone turned (except Jack) to look at Tommy. He slowly stood and crossed his arms "we mean no trouble McGregor. Stand down."

McGregor looked at him like a snarling racoon, "I can beat yer down like the rest of em Tommy so don't make yerself so high and mighty" he snapped thrusting the crop under Tommy's chin. Even Jack sat up to see what would come next.

Tommy held his ground "Yes you can. I don't doubt it. But the fact is that, tomorrow the boss said we gotta pick all this here cotton for Farmer Trigowan's order. And I doubt he'd be pleased if the order was late cause you beat one of the workers so bad that he could barely bend let alone scoop up cotton."

McGregor slowly took the crop away from Tommy's face, "I shan't beat yer" he said through sucked teeth.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief except for Tommy and Jack.

"But here's a message to all of yer" McGregor snapped before hitting Tommy clean on the cheek with his massive club like fist.

Tommy's head snapped back from the impact, everyone in the room stood up to defend him but Tommy's hand went up to stop them. Slowly, very slowly, Tommy put his eyes on McGregor, he spat the blood that dripped from his mouth.

"I don't want any talkin' back, do yer understand?" asked McGregor right in Tommy's face.

"Crystal" Tommy promised never taking his eyes off of McGregor's.

McGregor looked at the rest "just cause' its Sunday and yer get the rest of the day off, it don't excuse yer from me" and with that he turned around and marched out of the bunk house without a backward glance.

All of the men fell on Tommy helping him to a bunk, Jack and Fabrizio joined the three men as they helped Tommy to a bunk, all the time asking whether he was hurt and what they'd do to McGregor next time they saw him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine lads" Tommy promised nursing his rapidly growing purple chin, he smirked at them all knowingly "in a hundred years whose gonna care?"

"I hate this place" Jack muttered under his breath as he turned away and crossed his arms as he lent against the opposite bunk to the other guys.

Fabrizio knew Jack the most, so he was the most shocked by this statement, in his five years of knowing Jack he had never heard him say he hated something. He walked to his friend and patted his shoulder "Jack?" he asked "what's wrong I have never seen you like this."

Jack shrugged slightly. He hadn't told Fabrizio about what he saw nearly a week ago. Hell, he hadn't even told Fabrizio about any of this, not the unnamed lady, not the midnight chats, nothing. He didn't know why, before he had told Fabrizio every woman who had so much as _spat_ at him let alone one he had developed…feelings for. No he did not mean that! How could _he _develop feelings for _her_? It was simply impossible. She was everything he hated in any person: rich, proud, difficult and a spoilt little brat. He didn't mean that…Yes he _did_!

Jack shook his head groaning he couldn't even think about her without getting his thoughts screwed up!

Fabrizio watched him silent with worry. He had sense a change in Jack, he had never seen the man act like this, at first he thought it was Jack coming down because he wanted to move on from this dreadful brutal place, but now that Jack had started to earn his wages he couldn't see the problem.

Tommy chuckled holding his hurt face slightly, "yer got a girl back home boyo?" he asked wincing slightly from the action.

Jack turned around and sat on the bed opposite Tommy so he was on eye level with him, "I don't have a home."

"Yer haven't answered me question."

Jack looked away for a split second.

Tommy chuckled again before wincing yet again. "I'll take that as a yes."

Fabrizio stared at Jack, Jack looked at the floor frowning not noticing his friends eyes upon him. "But, you haven't seen a girl since Kentucky and even then it was a one night stand."

"Shut up" hissed Jack to his friend.

"So yer got a woman right ere on this pile of shit" smirked a man from the poker table.

"No!" Jack snapped but it knew this would call him no favours.

"Who is she? The cook? She's a well-built lady if I ever saw one. What about one of the maids from the house? Or the ladies maids? Those are yummy if I do say so myself" he went on, he wasn't going to stop anytime soon and Jack knew this for a fact.

Slowly he stood up and took his sketch book (which everyone had been threatened away from stealing by Tommy) and exited the yells and screams behind him.

"Boyo! Wait up!"

Jack turned surprised to see Tommy had followed him from the bunk house. He waited for Tommy to catch up.

"Boyo, where are yer going?" he asked through breaths.

"Nowhere" Jack said carefully.

"I'm not dumb like the rest of em, I know about this stuff, you are seeing a woman aren't yer?"

Jack shrugged "it's complicated." This at least was true; even he had problems comprehending this.

"Just listen, I've seen men get fired because of this. A couple of years ago, one of the workers fell in love with one of the ladies maid. The boss found out. He fired the maid, the worker and half of the other workers to make an example. I need this job boyo, we all do you included, there are other girls out there just wait till yer free and in Italy before you try to pursue them."

Jack nodded "Okay, okay I will" even he didn't know if he meant it. Tommy gave him a hard look before exiting and leaving Jack on his own.

Jack slowly walked to the fence and peered at the house. He had done this for the past week hoping that she'd come out again. So far she had not, he still went out though, it was something to do and he somehow enjoyed her company.

How could he have known what he saw? What had he saw anyway? Nothing! She could have caught her face on the door, she could have done nothing and it was all in his imagination. But somehow he knew this was a lie, her appearance physically changed when she saw lights turning on, she had made her hasty excuse and left. However he could not know this, this was so unlike him, usually he could suss out a situation, hell and entire _characters_ in five seconds, and now this girl was running rings around him. This had never happened before.

~::~

She sat at the table. Her father at the head of the table and her mother opposite her. She stared into space as the three of them sat in silence. Her father cleared her throat which commanded her attention. She looked at him with the same face that a china doll had painted on it.

"There's going to be a dance at the Bellings tomorrow night. You should go with your mother."

Unsubtle as ever.

She kept her eyes on her plate "I was thinking I could stay at home."

"That would not do you know that" her father dismissed while cutting off the head of his sardine which lay lifeless on his plate.

"I thought you disliked the Bellings" she commented, when she said disliked of course she meant that the Bellings did not have a son.

"No, but the Brandons, Hockleys, Carltons and Becks will be all there so you'll have to go."

She hated being told what to do, by him of all people. Balls, parties and dances were all a cattle ranch for her and other ladies to be squared up by the bachelors. It seemed that her one life goal now was to make up for not being a boy and find a rich husband before it was too late.

Her mother cleared her throat "I'm sure it will be fun darling" she said this to save her face from the servants more than try to negotiate with her.

She hated every minute she spent with her family; she might as well get a husband than spend any more time out here.

"Will you come father" she asked innocently enough.

"No. I will stay at home and seep in the moment of solitude."

Her eyes were back on her plate as she muttered "I take it then you'll keep away from the brothel houses and casinos."

She had found out about his moonlight activities. Unfortunately he seemed to want to spare his own dignity so he demanded secrecy.

Unfortunately for her he had heard that.

"Excuse me?" he asked setting his knife and fork down.

She looked up but then looked back down.

"What did you say to me?" he asked leaning forward on the table.

"Apologise to you father" her mother snapped using her name not in a whine but in a hiss.

She kept her eyes level on her plate, if only she had the guts to speak to him in the way he deserved like he was a dog on the road and not a business man.

"How dare you" he shook, his hands banged the table which gave her a jump, but still she did not look up.

She stood but he grabbed her wrist.

"Walter!" her mother hissed glancing at the servants who all looked away.

"Listen girl, for Christ sake look at me. Look at me!" he grabbed her chin and turned her around to look at him "you do not talk to me like that under my own roof. I don't care what boarding school has taught you but respect and manners isn't one of them."

He had said two things but she didn't dare point this out. Something in his made her feel like he was not joking

"What I do in my own time is my business! Do you understand? Answer me!"

She nodded through gritted teeth.

He let her go with such force to nearly fell backwards.

She was shaking she had so much anger and rage in her body, and yet she was also on the brink of tears because she had allowed him to dominate her. She had to get out.

She ran to the door and thrust it open before exited and slammed the door behind her. She pressed her back against the door hearing shouting inside.

She looked at the fence and saw him staring.

She walked over to him like she was wading through treacle, when she got to the fence she let herself almost fall against it. She, for once appreciated the cool wind in her face. It allowed her to shake off the heat from the dining room.

He cleared his throat. "I said are you alright?"

She turned and looked at him, there was too much shouting ringing in her ears and skull to hear anything properly. She nodded.

"I'm fine Mr Dawson-"

"Jack."

They both smiled letting the pun shrivel and die between them.

"What was all that about?" he asked nodding to the house, he had obviously heard them.

She shrugged "nothing" and that's what it was to her. Nothing.

"Is this common in a rich man's house?" he asked putting his hands in his pockets.

"Not as common as kissing frogs."

He smirked "you won't let that go will you?" he leant forward on the fence so he could see her face.

Her eyes blinked down to meet his without moving her head "not on your life."

He laughed but she did not join him, she had bitten her tongue so much through the course of the evening that she couldn't make it work now.

He looked at her carefully, she seemed to be holding her true feelings inside and this shell was merely performing the highlights. He cleared his throat again, "I have this dream" he muttered looking at her in mock shyness "that I will own a farm in a small field of land, where I sow crops and trees to make food and stock for trade."

"What kind?" she asked playing along with the game.

"Apples, beans, carrots and oranges and other stuff which I've forgot about."

She shrugged letting him have that one.

"I'll have animals too, cows, horses, goats and rabbits."

"Of course."

"All different colours."

"What? Brown ones, white ones, black ones, grey ones…Purple ones?" she asked as a joke.

Jack laughed "yep, the purple ones are my favourite."

"Where is this magical ranch anyway?" she asked not sure whether she liked him laughing at her joke or not.

"I was thinking Italy."

"Do you know the language?"

"Sì." (Yes.)

"Beh, almeno si può fare almeno." (Well at least you can do that at least.)

"La vostra fiducia in me per sempre fa paura. " (Your forever confidence in me is frightening.)

She laughed; her Italian was a lot more eloquent considering she had done so through infinite text books and repeating what her tutor said until she had learnt it off by heart. His on the other hand was not to say the least, he had learnt his from captains and from the streets of Rome.

'Suppongo che tu sappia fascino le donne una volta che siete là fuori.' (I take it you know how to charm the women once you are out there.)

He did a small shrugging motion, "forse, forse.' (Maybe, maybe.) "Un esempio: penso che tu sei bella.' (An example: I think you are beautiful.)

She looked at him for a very long time. She didn't know what to say to that. Usually she shrugged off a compliment like that or give mock interest while inside she screamed and tore the table apart. But for some reason she seemed to have taken that as a compliment.

She decided to still value her pride however and said to him: "Beh, avete la faccia di dietro un asino." (Well, you have the face of a donkey's behind.) She didn't know how to say ass or any other form of slang in any foreign language (in fact she could do it barely in English).

He couldn't help but feel a little down hearted that she took his compliment so lightly. Did she have any idea how much courage he had needed to say that (in _Italian_ no less) and yet she still laughed in his face. Did he mean so little to her.

They both sat in silence after that. She feared she had misjudged that joke, and he was too depressed to carry on. She bit her lip as she turned to him.

"I want to tell you something."

He looked up, what was she talking about now.

She looked at him straight in the eye, "my name is Rose DeWitt Bukater. My name is Rose."

He blinked at her, how could he have not guessed? She was every bit a Rose. He smiled at her…Or rather he smiled at Rose.

She smiled back at him, her captivating smile, her true smile. He felt his legs turn into jelly as he saw her.

He held out his hand "Rose Dewitt Blah-Blah-Blah, I'm Jack Dawson."

Rose smiled as she took his hand and shook it. "It's good to meet you Mr Dawson-"

"Jack."

"Jack."

Was he in heaven or what?

They stood there for a while happy that the other now knew their name.

"I've got to-" muttered Jack when he heard McGregor snapping back in the bunk house that it was lights out.

"Yeah me too" Rose muttered as she could hear from here a grandfather clock strike nine.

They both shyly smiled again and ran off to their respective beds.

~::~

Jack smiled as he skipped into his bunk and turn over. He had never felt so happy in his life. His chest felt like one of those hot air balloons which rose him up into the sky and clouds.

He turned over and fell into a happy sleep.

Little did he know that Tommy had been watching him worriedly from his bunk, he slowly shook his head at Jack, he was going to get the whole lot of them fired. He slowly turned over and watched the others one by one find sleep as he stayed awake worrying.

~::~

Rose ran into her room and closed the door. She had managed to skip her parents who were both in the drawing room arguing or in bitter silence with one and another.

Was she happy? She felt herself smile about nothing in particular as she sat on her bed. She must be happy because something was causing her to act this way. She slowly closed her eyes and breathed in the cool night air.

She had never felt like this in her life.

She fell back onto her bed so she lay flat on her back, not even bothering to cover herself up with her sheets or change out of her evening dress. She took the hand that she had shaken his with and kissed it.

She knew by the morning her old mood of indifference would be cultivated back by the next evening, so she held onto this new alien feeling for as long as she could. She closed her eyes and allowed her hair to spread over the pillow and not be tied and knotted into a bun like every other night.

She fell into a happy sleep which held her captive for the rest of the night.

~::~

Review me!

This was a tricky chapter because my PC had a break down because of the ineloquent English and the use of Italian in this chapter. Hopefully it will be a while before that happens again! As usual suggestions is much appreciated and I will use as many as I can. Please I love hearing from you guys and thanks for reading!


	6. Rain

**A Purple Rabbit**

Sorry about the delay, A level examinations, job hunting (and failing), holiday to Centre Parks, and my Pc crashed through a virus in the weeks I have not been writing and to top it all off my results and preparing for University (or not if I can't get my grades up) and moving to Uni by the end of this Summer half term. So I haven't been doing my weekly Titanic writing. And my PC was wiped to remove the virus in it so I lost a good chunk of chapter six which I had already written.

Oh well, I'm here now and lets continue.

Chapter Six: Rain

The rains were late.

What a romantic thought. Rose considered this as she sat on the decking of her house, she sat her head in her left hand, her right had a book wedged in it's index finger.

It was like so ancient Tribal God held power over the weather which people had to worship and sacrifice to so as to save their loved ones. Rose pondered this as she sat watching the sun set before her with the book in her hand: _A Guide To An Healthy Marital Life For Women, (_which held absolutely _no_ pictures or conversations) doing little to entertain her. She had been pretending to read for the sake of her mother, she usually didn't make this level of effort but as of lately she had finding herself a lot more tolerant.

Tolerant was a good word her new frame of mind, she held her frustration inside now, and she refused to succumb to her own rage. Although there had been some close calls, this was mainly due to her father always talking about her marrying and why she was being so picky about it. Her mouth had stayed closed, due to the tolerance, but since her temper was still very much alive she felt her thoughts howl and hiss with defiance and anger.

She had been waiting for some time for the sun to go down; she was now itching with anticipation barely able to control herself. The last time she was like this she was six and waiting for her birthday to arrive.

She was breaking all of the rules now but she didn't care. She was going to be bad in body as well as mind now.

The stars were coming out over her head. She gave one last look back to see if the cost was clear before walking down out of the light and towards the fence. She stood by the white face waiting for what felt like an age before she heard the slow stride that could only come from Jack coming up behind her.

Jack walked over to the fence his hands in his pockets; he had no idea if she was there or not. He was exhausted after his hard day at picking cotton and now he was absolutely out of it. But for some reason instead of going straight to the bunk house to sleep he had decided to see if the fence was deserted.

He got quite a shock when he saw her waiting for him; surely_ he_ was the one who had to wait for _her_.

She smiled when she saw him approach, her grin growing as she saw his face. When he got to the fence still looking confused she asked him: "tell me about Paris."

Another shock for him, surely_ he_ talked to_ her_ first and then _she_ let _her_ defenses down and talked back to_ him_ about what _she_ wanted to talk about.

He recovered though, "what do you want to know?" he asked casually leaning against the fence trying to act all mysterious.

She dug in her pocket and took out two cigarettes giving them to him to light. "I don't know, I just want to know what it was like. The people, the places, the sites, the sounds, the smells…"

Jack chuckled as he put the two cigarettes in his mouth to light "well I can tell you now, the smells were not pretty. I wasn't exactly in the tourist resort; I was on the streets for the first year of my life."

Rose puffed her breath "I know that, I'm not completely innocent."

Jack looked at her returning her now lit cigarette to her. "Well after I was separated with my family, I had decided to go to Paris. I wanted to be an artist so it seemed like a good idea at the time. Stupid me. I stowed away on a small trade boat heading there, I was lucky I was not caught, but I was unlucky before they were transporting cows. And they got sea sick. Very sea sick."

Jack shuddered at the memory; Rose checked her laugh as she imagined Jack on that ship. Jack opened one eye to look at her before continuing:

"When I arrived, I couldn't speak a word of French and nobody had the faintest clue what I was talking about. I spent the first few months begging on the street to get by, I did a little work to get some coins but again the language barrier prevented me from getting any lasting work. I couldn't pick it up, and I knew I was going to starve if something didn't change.

"Then one day while I was begging an art trader spotted me in the street. He traded with the English and so knew what I was saying; he thankfully took pity on me and offered me a job cleaning his workshop. I was so hungry at that point that I would have said yes to almost anything. His name was Pierre and he helped me in more ways than get me a job and home. I learnt languages and how to paint from him, and in return I worked hard for him. In Paris the place becomes so alive with passion, especially for beautiful things, I remember Pierre explaining to me that it is every man's ambition to create and posses beautiful things."

Jack was silent for a while as he thought back to Paris and Pierre. He felt a small tug on his heart before turning back to Rose smiling.

"I spent a year with Pierre learning as much as I could from him, I could now speak French enough for myself to be understood, I had enough money to eat every day and my sketching was improving. I was comfortable for the first time in years. And yet…I don't know but I wasn't content with that, part of me wanted to see more of the world. Paris is beautiful, but what about Rome or Florence in Italy? What about Spain? Greece? Poland? Romania? And beyond Europe? I wanted to see it all. But I knew I couldn't if I stayed Pierre's assistant.

"So after much consideration I decided to leave and head for Italy as my next country. However I couldn't leave Pierre without a goodbye gift of some kind. I felt like I was betraying him, a man who took kindness and pity on me and here I was spitting in his face. I knew it wouldn't do. I wanted to get a gift for Pierre, I knew he would love a work of art for his study but I didn't know what. I was expressing this to Clarissa who was my…Friend and she didn't know what to suggest. I was just starting to think I would never get a gift for Pierre when Clarissa gave me a work of art. I had seen this piece before; it had traveled from Italy and was considered to be a masterpiece. Something told me that if I gave this to Pierre he would never forgive me." Jack looked at Rose and saw her raised eyebrows "Yes! I thought that too, I knew it was stolen and I should return it immediately yet I couldn't be ungrateful to Clarissa because she had risked a lot to get that for me.

"I decided that I could make a copy of the art to give to Pierre and then he wouldn't b arrested for housing stolen goods. It took me many weeks and attempts before I was even close to satisfied with the picture I sketched. Then the painting, which involved mixing the right shade and thickness for the paint, and finally actually painting it which took two nights to do. Clarissa was a little upset when I asked her to return the painting to the rightful owner for it had taken her a lot of time and personal danger to herself to get it. But I made it up to her" Jack grinned but when seeing Rose raise her eyebrow again he cleared his throat.

"I gave Pierre the painting I made for him, while Clarissa gave the original back. Pierre was delighted with my gift if not saddened when I told him what the occasion was. He gave me a small amount of money for the boat ticket and food, also my sketch pad, I bid my farewells to both Clarissa and Pierre and made y way to the edge of France to get on a boat to Italy. My plan worked perfectly in the sense that I went to the edge of the country and caught a boat. My French must not have been as good as I assumed for I ended up on a boat to China…But that's another story."

Rose looked up at him, her cigarette had been finished but she hadn't bothered to get another one. She wished she could go somewhere besides this plantation "what happened in China?" she was dying to know.

Jack shook his head "surely it is my turn to ask you some questions?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

Rose shook her head "there is nothing to know" she said simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

Jack laughed "I think that is an understatement. You fascinate me."

She _fascinated_ him. No one had ever said that about her before.

She still shook her head "I don't lead a very interesting life" unlike him.

Jack leaned on the fence looking at her "tell me about why you like art" he asked with his head in his hands.

Rose regarded him suspiciously; no one had ever asked her that before. And even if they did they didn't mean it, they soon got bored or tired of her passion quickly "I like art" she said carefully.

"Why?"

Rose shrugged "it's a way to express."

"Can you draw?"

"No."

"Paint?"

"No."

"Make models?"

"No."

"Do you normally express yourself?"

"No."

"Then express yourself now. Tell me what you think about art."

She regarded him a little uncertainly before taking a deep breath and started to tell him her thoughts, ideas and feelings.

Jack watched her in total awe, she seemed to change before his eyes, she opened out completely to him and was lost in her own words. Her language made it sound like poetry, sometimes he couldn't understand what she was saying but he didn't need to, her passion and her thoughts coloured his perception making him feel like he was listening to fine music.

Rose looked at him and stopped "or so I've heard" she said saving herself, she didn't want to show him her feelings being left vulnerable for him to hurt her like so many other people have done in the past.

Jack blinked at her "why did you do that" he had been enjoying himself.

She shrugged "I didn't do anything."

Jack frowned but said nothing.

Rose looked at the house "I better go" she said shrugging.

Jack forgave her quickly because he wanted to see her again "will you come tomorrow."

"Maybe."

"I'll tell you about China."

"Okay."

He grinned, in which she grinned back to. They were so close on the fence their faces nearly touching.

Jack looked into her eyes; they were almost violet in the darkness, her red hair shining in the star light. Rose herself was overwhelmed with the proximity with him.

Jack edged closer and kissed Rose straight on the cheek.

~::~

Sorry for the delay! Review me!


	7. Kiss

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Seven: Kiss

She needn't have acted as she did. Rose took a step back from Jack totally taken aback. She blinked quickly trying to put together what had just happened. Jack regarded her apologetically

"I'm sorry" was all he could manage to say.

She turned away shaking her head sadly.

Jack puffed his breath "I'm sorry" he said again "I was too…" He had run out of words.

"Brash?" she suggested not looking at him.

Jack grinned, however not looking up from the fence "yeah, brash" he had no idea what that meant but it sounded right.

She sighed at herself; she wasn't sure whether she was repulsed by her actions or embarrassed by his.

Jack looked at her seriously "Unless…" he began.

"Unless what?" she asked looking up at him.

"Unless, that meant a lot more to you than it should have."

Rose started to walk to the house.

"Rose wait!" he cried running after her "I didn't mean that I'm sorry."

"I'm tired Jack I'm going home" she snapped looking down at the ground.

"Is it a bad thing? If two people have an attraction to one another!"

"It's not that simple. And don't flatter yourself" she cried brutally.

Jack stopped momentarily before muttering under his breath "I wasn't waiting for you tonight. You were waiting for me."

She stopped floored by his logic. He was right. She did have an attraction to him. He needn't know though.

"Goodnight Mr Dawson" she snapped resuming her brisk walk.

"Jack" he corrected.

"Goodnight" she snapped frustrated.

"Wait!" he cried in an attempt to stop her.

She ignored him. She walked to her front door, opened it and slammed it behind her.

~::~

Rose walked into her room furious with herself. She had never felt so angry in her life. How dare he kiss her! How dare he hold this power over her! And who was he? Nothing more than a worker for her father! She was acting as a cliché falling for him! She was stupid! She was stupid! She was not a princess waiting to be rescued and he was certainly no handsome prince! He was a frog! A frog of the highest degree! Damn him! Damn him to hell! Let him burn in Hell! How _dare_ he!

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, realizing too late that she was holding it too hard so hairs came out in her hand. She lay in her bed ignoring the timid knocks of her lady's maid asking if she needed any held.

She looked up at the ceiling as she was finally left in peace. She closed her eyes; she knew it was hopeless perusing this sort of company from any type of man who didn't match up to her father's expectations. And even if Jack Dawson wasn't a worker and did have some form of income aside from a few dollars from her father, that didn't mean he and her could be together. Could it? A mad fantasy went inside her head as she imagined her and Jack as equals.

Would she see him the same way?

Of course not. That was ridiculous, one of the main attractions of Jack was that he could not understand or repeat her ideas or thoughts. If he was a gentleman of the highest society she wouldn't feel nearly as safe with him. However he could have charmed her, his infinite confidence and character could have intrigued her. He and her could have spent a whole evening talking about art and his adventures. And then maybe they could have pursued a courting and…

This was foolish. Not just foolish: sick. She had no right to imagine him or herself as anything beyond friends, if that. She wasn't attracted to him, she maybe fond of him but that was all. He was excitement to her, he was the forbidden fruit, the greener grass on the other side, and if he was attainable to her she wouldn't have let herself get in too deep with him.

However…

She groaned exasperated. New arguments and ideas raged inside her head but she didn't want to listen to them now. She was tired. Exhausted. She wanted peace even if for five seconds. She found her finger tips were against her cheek. That cheek. The one he had…

She snarled and turned over hiding her head in the pillow. She will not be weak. She will not be that hopelessly female!

~::~

Jack stumbled inside the bunk house. He mumbled something under his breath as he tripped over an upturned chair. Looks like the men had been gambling again.

He could hear Tommy's snores as he passed his bunk. At least he didn't have to worry about _that_ tonight.

He walked to his bed. He ached all over (and not just from his joints), he felt tired and he wanted to just lie down and sleep. But he would not allow himself to. Instead he reached for his sketch book. Took his pencil in his right hand. And drew.

~::~

Rose didn't leave her room until it was close to midday.

She walked down the stairs in a daze. She didn't know what was real and what was fantasy.

Her father looked up from his newspaper "so the idle daughter returns," he stated, his voice heavy in sarcasm.

"Good morning father" she said icily hoping her persona might defer him from pressing on the matter.

He looked at her carefully "Midday" he corrected.

"I have half an hour until then."

"Don't be impertinent."

Fine. Fine she won't. She'd sit here like a porcelain doll and say only pretty things and good things which suited him to here, let alone her inner anger frustration RAGE which was building with every second he looked at her with that expression.

She gripped the table as her thoughts buzzed in her head like bees. But _somehow_ she managed to keep her mouth shut.

"You are going to the Hockley's next week."

Notice how _she_ had no opinion in these plans. She felt like she was a flower now, a dainty rose which everyone would look and gush over but they were not aware of her thorns which were trained for their hearts. She decided not to react, if she did or did not it make any difference. She would go and that was that.

She irritably unclenched her fist which was under the table.

"You may well look like that, but nothing with come of it."

Would he _ever_ just leave her alone? Didn't he know when to quit?

She growled under her breath but out of his ear shot.

She was suddenly aware that her mother was at the table. However she was not looking at them, only at her tea cup while she pretended not to listen.

"You can't make a silks purse out of a sow's ear" her father snapped as he saw his daughter look at him defiantly.

She stood from her chair and walked up the stairs. She couldn't take any more. She had to get out and compose herself. The man was going to drive her to insanity!

She went back to her room. To hell for appearance sake! She won't give them the satisfaction! She would not let them get to her!

She sat angrily on her bed. She was fuming with herself and her parents. She knew the built up anger from last night had bled into her normal mood of tolerance. But…Was there something else? Was there…Fear?

She had never felt this way about _anyone_ before.

She wished her life was simple again. It was far easier hoping for a connection and imagining one than actually to deal with it in reality. And what if he didn't like her? What if he wanted her because...Of sex? Lust? Or to get an easy ride. Not that being with her was easy but she didn't know what else. She wished it was last month when she was perfectly comfortable in her situation: men would throw themselves at her; she'd reject and humiliate them. Simple. Easy. She did want more but that was her fantasies. Not reality.

She didn't know what to do.

She suddenly noticed something on her window. A small piece of paper tied onto a rock.

She walked over and opened the window and pulled the paper off of the window sill.

She opened the paper out and saw a drawing of a rabbit. It was coloured in a violet shade of purple. She saw in crooked letters underneath spell:

KeeP ON DReaMiNG ROSe

Her name had been written several times and had been written more carefully then the other words.

She looked down but still held the sketch in her hands. She had no idea what she was going to do next.

She sat on her bed and thought things over. It was nearly dark before she had reached her conclusion.

~::~

Jack stood behind the fence. He stamped his feet and puffed his breath watching as the breath turned into a puff of smoke. He heard a small click as the door to the house opened and shut. His heart caught in his mouth as he saw her walking down the steps towards him.

He gulped; he hoped this would end well.

She walked to the fence in front of him, unlike the many times before she did not take out a cigarette to light. This made him feel extra nervous. He gulped again.

"Did you get my-"

She nodded. She was not looking at him.

He felt himself swallow. He shoved his hands in his pockets. '_Please don't end this please don't end this please don't end this_' he pleaded to himself making bargains in his head to the universe to stop her from saying the inevitable.

She turned to him to look at him fully.

He gulped. This was it.

She stood on her tip toes. Leaned over the fence. And kissed him straight on the lips.

~::~

Review me! And I promise the plot will pick up soon enough!


	8. Italy

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Eight: Italy

He wouldn't let her go.

He was confused. Happy, but confused.

She was on her tip toes and held his grimy collar as she kissed his lips. She had never kissed anyone before, not even her parents, she had practised on her pillow and the inside of her arm in her early adolescence but nothing could prepare her for what it felt like. It felt wet, slimy and weird on the one hand, but on the other she felt warm and her lips tingled as she touched his with her own.

She soon felt however his arms wrap around her waist; they were both crushed against the pointy fence, an unwilling barrier which no manner of will power could eradicate. She let him go when she couldn't take any more.

He wouldn't let her go however. It seemed to his credit an instinctual thing which he had given into by shock.

"Rose…What" he began trying to think of what to say.

She shrugged in his arms "I got sick of trying to fight it."

Typical, it was her impatience and not his heroics which would start this relationship.

However, he found himself grinning, he placed his forehead against hers, "and do I have a say?"

"You did. I told myself if he lets me kiss him and kisses me back then he make his decision." That was another lie; she hadn't thought that far ahead, only her wit just now made her make that decision.

She must have been a good liar now for he took that for a fact, "I suppose that's a fair cop, but what if I was too scared to refuse you? You caught me by surprise; I might not have given you my honest reaction."

She smiled closing her eyes as she rested her forehead against his again, she realised that her arms were now twisted quite painfully against his shoulders but she couldn't make herself rearrange them as if all of her brain was towards his actions and speech. "Very well" she said at last "may I have your honest answer?"

His idea of an honest answer was to kiss her again on the lips.

That sent an electric shock into her brain which allowed her to move her arms so they were cupping his cheeks. His arms moved up from her waist onto the small of her back.

This time her brain was more receptive to the sensation in her body by kissing him instead solely onto what her lips were feeling.

She felt like a balloon was inside her chest, her chest felt like it was warm and filled with happiness. However she couldn't feel her legs, only her hands and lips which were touching his face. His warmth made her lips tingle with his taste and scent she couldn't stop herself smiling hours later when she recounted this.

He couldn't believe what was happening to him, he had been working himself up to her making him never crossing her path again, getting fired, and accused of indecent assault with a policemen, but never: this. He had kissed a lot of girls before (and I do mean a _lot_) but never like this. His body felt like it was floating in the sky, he had never had this sensation before, often seeing kissing as a stop gap until he could get the woman to her bed.

When they finished they took their faces away from each other's. It was a little embarrassing being in such close proximities; they had to resist the urge to look away.

Rose had no idea what any of this meant, all she had planed was to kiss him but had been resistant to plan further. Now she knew she was in way over her head.

Jack had similar thoughts but he was better at quietening them.

He grinned at her again, but she didn't reply with a grin more of a depressed upside-down smile.

Jack knew what was coming, "I know what you're gonna say, we can't be together I'm not good enough and we aren't good together but-"

"I wasn't going to say that," she interrupted him, she suddenly over night seemed to have cared what he thought about her, "I was just thinking about what we were going to do; I was thinking we had to be cautious."

"Exactly, my idea was-"

"I haven't been stopped yet from coming outside and no one has suspected me, which can only be a good thing. You're quite free so we can keep on meeting. But we can conduct ourselves like we have quite easily, and then…Then we'll have to think of something more permanent…"

"Yes! My plan is-"

"Maybe we won't be caught right away we could keep this going for months…but what if my parents take my cigarettes again, I won't be able to see you then, but maybe-"

He kissed her lips silencing her for a moment.

"I like you Rose De-something-or-other but you can fluster yourself sometimes."

She blinked at him not sure how to take this, but the suddenness of his kiss had rendered her useless until she composed herself again.

"My plan is that you come with me."

She blinked again this time in bewilderment.

"Come with me, to Italy, Florence to be exact. I can show you the world and you could have the life you always dreamed. It sounds a little silly I know, I mean it's a big leap for you to take, but I think you need this, they've got you trapped Rose and if you don't break free you're gonna die." He let one of his hands let go of her to point at the house before it quickly resumed itself around her.

"How…How are we going to get there?" she asked in a daze.

"By ship, me and Frabizio are going by that."

"No, I mean we don't have any money."

"Well, I'm earning a wage now, ten dollars a week; it'll take me just eight months to have enough for the both of us."

"That's almost a year we could be found out by then" what she actually meant was that she could be married by then.

Jack considered this chewing the inside of his mouth thoughtfully "I could try gambling and getting the 600 bucks that way" he was already calculating the exact precision, if he had his own savings of forty bucks, along with Frabizio's savings of ninety bucks then that could be enough to tempt the others into giving out big money. But that wouldn't be enough for 900 dollars; he'd have to include someone else. A certain ginger prat who had the money to make up the difference. The finalities were not sorted out in his head but he could pull the others in, make McGregor drunk and then make him gamble away his money. Risky yes, and could have severer consequences but it would be worth it that by Sunday he'd have enough to run away with Rose.

She looked like she didn't think that would work.

"It's okay I have a lucky hand at poker, a really lucky hand, just leave it to me."

She didn't look comforted by him (if it was possible she looked the opposite) but she resigned to the fact that unless she was prepared to steal from her father then they'd have to take that route.

She was still having trouble imagining that she and he could go to Italy. What would it be like, she had never been past Philadelphia what was it like on a boat? Was the sun and moon different in Italy?

"How would we live?" she asked walking out of his arms to pace along the sandy road.

"Well, it won't be exactly pretty, we'd be in the lower class of the ship at the bottom, and then we'd have to go across Italy finding work and finding a place to stay, however Frabizio says he was sure his mother and father won't object to lending the use of their barn for a couple of nights. I could paint and show you things like the colour of the sky, the way that Italy has a different colour scheme than what America has, try new foods, new places, new sites and sounds instead of what you're bored at here."

"And what if it all goes wrong and you get bored of me and I end up stranded in the middle of nowhere in a country I can't understand and miles and miles from home" she was partly angry at him and wished he'd never given her this choice, the way she saw it she'd be damned if she did and she was damned if she didn't.

"I'd never leave you."

"You say that now."

"What do you want a contract?"

"Don't be absurd!"

"I'm serious! Do you want me to write out that on no occasion I would leave you in a place which I know will leave you in danger?"

"You can't write."

"I can you saw I could."

"Jack, stop it" she pleaded.

"Then you'll have to believe me" he smirked his teeth flashing in the light of the moon. He swung his legs onto the fence so he could sit on it; he looked like a Cheshire cat in the darkness.

Rose sighed crossing her arms despite the cold; she had never had to trust someone with so much when she knew him so little. In comparison to everyone else in her life, Jack seemed to brush through life barely stopping for five minutes and seemed to feel he knew he enough to form a relationship with her and proposing they ran away together. They had barely known each other for five weeks! Courting in her society were either quick: marry first ask questions later affairs, or the gentleman wanted to court the lady for some time, wanting to see if she could keep this mask of serenity for the length of time he saw fit.

Jack however realised that his way of doing things was not the same as hers. He regarded her as she thought quickly trying to weigh up the pros and cons. "I know it's a big jump for you. For us. But please try. For me? I want you to come with me."

She looked away. Italy…It was such a distant thought, she could say yes now and wait until she got used to the idea and calmed to see what she really felt; however part of her felt relief at the thought she rejected him and she cut it right now in the bud. Her world was so infuriatingly small that she couldn't imagine anything else. She found herself shaking her head.

Jack felt himself deflate. "Then" he said determinedly "I'll stay here."

"What?" she asked that wasn't an option.

"I have to be close to you."

"Jack…"

"We don't have to go on with these feelings but…If I didn't see you everyday like I do now…Well that's not an existence I want."

"You'd hate it here."

"I will."

"You can't give promises you can't keep you'd hate me for tying you down."

"I will never hate you Rose."

"And what happens when I marry?"

Jack flinched the thought had crossed his mind but he had suppressed it as best as possible.

"I would not inflict that onto you."

"And I will not leave you here alone. I'm going to stay here for you because I'm scared of what will become of you if I'm not here."

"I will be fine."

"We know you wouldn't."

And she did. Suddenly Rose saw her life for the next ten years: courting, marriage to a dull and worthless man, acting as a baby machine until she produced at least five sons or dropped dead, and if she survived that, years of sitting around doing nothing while her children screamed for attention from her, but she would be too far gone to see them drowning. She saw it as a disease going down the generations, years upon years of wasted lives. She owned to her past, future and present generation to at least try.

"Are you in earnest?" she asked looking at him.

Jack nodded solemnly "I swear."

That was all the answer she needed.

She had made her decision, as if the mists of doubt had parted to show a sunny day she smiled at him: "I'd be honoured to come with you."

Jack looked like he didn't believe her for a second but he suddenly bounded off of the fence onto her side and scooped her up in his arms.

"Jack" she cried when he jumped off of the fence, but she was silenced with his lips on hers. At the fist possible moment she pulled him to the tree so they were partially hidden from the view of the house.

They kissed though even if it was a death sentence on both of their heads, every now and then Rose would crane her neck to the house half expecting to see her mother/servant(or worse)/father staring through the windows at her. But her confidence grew and allowed herself to kiss Jack more passionately, the danger in the air made her act more boldly.

However Jack himself was not keeping watch and he did not see a man in the shadows staring at them both. He was on Jack's side of the fence, he didn't say a word but pulled his bolo hat lower over his eyes as if he wanted to erase what he was seeing and walked backwards further into the shadows.

~::~

Review Me! It's really going to heat up next week folks I swear!


	9. Fornication

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Nine: Fornication

Rose made sure that she could see Jack every night now. She made her excuses to her mother and father saying she wanted to go out and walk or smoke outside. Even when she had her cigarettes taken off her by her mother because they were "death sticks" she'd still make up some excuse for her to go out and walk.

She was sure that her father would have the biggest problem with this; he always seemed to latch onto when Rose was doing something she shouldn't. He'd get it out of her and then he'd eradicate the happiness until Rose had forgotten it had even existed. Now however he was mellow. He sat for great lengths of time in his large arm chair barely looking up when Rose asked them if she could walk out and have some air. Her mother was occupied with her father's mood as well so she barely looked up at Rose.

Jack was feeling lucky himself, slipping away was easy for him too, apart from the odd strangled look from Tommy and Fabrizio asking Jack where he was going Jack snuck away without any argue. McGregor missed him almost every time, on the rare occasions he had not Jack had to saddle with a stern word and a hit from the riding crop of his shoulder, but it was worth it.

All of the men and boys at the bunk house seemed enthusiastic about the idea of robbing McGregor blind of his cash. Possibly because they thought that they could have the chance at winning nearly one thousand dollars. Jack had an advantage over them all that he had seen their poker strategies and how they acted, he had not played poker thus they had no idea how he acted. Not that he needed that with the skill he had; also the possibility of running away with Rose was motivation enough.

They planned to play this weekend and drug McGregor on Sunday night by offering him a game of snap, then a small mug of beer which they were both allowed to have on Sundays with the drugs inside which would made McGregor go stark raving mad! Tommy was apprehensive of this plan saying they could all get into a lot of trouble but the others seemed to think this was a risk worth taking.

Jack told Rose of his plan and how it would all work out. Rose didn't want to think about her and Jack's future being gambled away on a small pack of bent wrinkled cards, but since Jack was so proud of the plan and the technicalities of it she put up with it for a time. When she felt well and truly sick she'd change the subject to something more agreeable. Sometimes she'd ask Jack what he did in such and such a place.

"I'll run out of stories soon" Jack laughed leaning against his side of the fence.

"Then I'll ask you to tell me the stories all over again" Rose would always retort back at him. She loved each new story that she couldn't see herself becoming sick of Jack.

But mostly they talked about Italy, Jack wanted to go before (Italy being one of the few places he had not been to) but now that Rose was coming with him he couldn't wait for the day they could break free.

Rose tried to think of Italy as a place they could just spirit away to. She felt sick when her thoughts turned to how they were going to get there. Would she tell her father and mother or would she leave in the night? What if they came after her? She pushed these thoughts far into the back of her mind telling them sharply to be quiet.

She wondered what they would do for money, Jack made it sound so easy but he was born for this sort of thing. What if she couldn't cut it? She had never brought this up with Jack, because she couldn't bring herself to tell him her fears, it make them too real, but what she was most fearful of was that Jack would agree with her.

After a good three hours of being in each other's company they'd have to part in case a search party would be sent out for them. This had never happened but they were tempting fait enough already. Jack would watch her go into the house before turning around his hands in his pockets and walked back to the bunk house.

The men would crow and asked where he'd gone. Expect for Tommy who would looked at Jack with accusing eyes but did not confront him. Jack paid it no mind though, if Tommy wanted to confront him Jack would defend himself but if there was no fight then Jack had nothing to do.

Rose would creep into the house and go straight to her room. One night she was going up the stair case when she heard her mother wail:

"What do you mean the money's gone?"

"What do you think you stupid woman? The money is gone!"

"How? Have our shares failed? Have one of our buyers cancelled his contract? What?"

"Don't talk like you know what you're saying!"

"How" Rose's mother swallowed "how can all of our savings be gone too? We still have Rose's dowry too…Don't we Walter?"

"No. All of the money is gone. We are bankrupt."

"How? How is that possible? Were we robbed? Conned?"

"No. No. I wish we had. Then at least we could get compensation for it."

"Then _how_?" Rose's mother wailed.

"Oh for God's sake! I spent it all okay!"

"You…You spent it all?" Rose shared her mother's surprise; her husband barely bought a button on his own. But Rose was quicker and sharper; she figured it out in a rush.

"I gambled it. And spent it on a few more things, I don't know…Drink…Girls…"

"Women? Do you mean Prostitutes…Oh Walter…"

"Shut it! I need to think."

Rose could hear him pacing the room she hung around on the stair case like a child. Although she knew she'd be leaving in a few weeks she couldn't help but feel a sense of doom go over her.

Rose's mother swallowed "We could sell some of the heirlooms and relics…Sell some of the land?...And perhaps move…"

"And what? Be the talk of the neighbourhood? Have all of our dirty washing on show? No thank you! No, I have a plan! Cal Hockley's wife has died suddenly from a bad illness; he'll be looking for a new wife. We could let him have Rose."

"But…But we don't have a dowry to offer…And Rose isn't the most cooperative at the best of times."

"Instead of that I can offer him a share in the business as if he was my son. Give him a few hundred dollars from selling some of this old junk and we'd have him. He will be looking for a younger prettier model, for his old one he was arranged to marry and she was an ugly one even if she has died. Rose would be the perfect wife for him, he didn't have any children from his last wife Rose would be perfect for him!"

Rose felt sick she sat on the steps and leaned heavily on the banister.

The stairs creaked with her movement.

"Rose? Rose is that you?" Roses' mother called.

Rose tuned to run but was too slow about it.

Her father and mother walked out of the room and stared at her.

She stared back.

"What did you hear?" her mother asked worriedly.

Rose shrugged "enough" was her answer.

"Don't you dare be impertinent to me!" her father snapped taking out his frustration onto her.

She looked down at her entangled hands which lay on her knees.

Her mother looked at her husband to her daughter worriedly. "Now Rose, it's very important that you listen-"

"Don't ask her a question! Tell her: Rose you are marrying Cal Hockley whether you like it or not."

"Really?" asked Rose not looking at him but trying to keep calm (and failing).

"Yes, really!" snarled her father.

"And what does Mr Hockley have to say about this?"

Rose's mother looked at her husband in a strangled look, as if she thought Rose had had them there.

"If you must know, he thinks it is a splendid idea!" her father said defiantly hands on his hips "you can meet him tomorrow night in fact. He's coming down to meet you."

Rose's head snapped up at him as if he had slapped her.

Rose's mother looked at him too frustrated.

"I thought I'd let you all know gently" her father said casually "I thought I should make it out as an idea instead of a plan. But it can't be helped now. You're doing it and that is that."

Rose stood and glared at him defiantly. She was standing on the steps so she was on his eye level.

"No." was all she could say.

Her father's face turned sour.

~::~

She sat in her window seat. Her skin under the right eye was black. She wouldn't be surprised if her mother would have similar marks to her. He turned on her when she tried to get him off of her. She didn't care. She will still say no. Even if he made her black and blue she'd still act hateful to him. She'd be hateful to this new man too. She'd make him run a mile. If she hadn't done so already.

~::~

Jack walked around the cold night air. He had gone to the bunk house but heard a fight inside between the men. He was not in the mood. Since meeting Rose a feeling of calmness had swept over him. He walked and smoked his last cigarette looking at the sky.

It held a thousand and one stars above him, not like the cloudy cities in which he had spent so long at.

He looked at the house. All of the windows black accept one. Hers.

He smirked.

He even saw her silhouette in the darkness.

He wondered if she could see him. He tried to wave but the shadow seemed unmoved.

Something inside him told him something was wrong.

Maybe it was everything that had come before.

He jumped over the fence to her side. He quickly picked up a few pebbles and threw it at the window.

The silhouette at last moved. She opened the window. Rose's voice was carried by the wind for him to hear her harsh whisper snap: "go away. Somebody could see you!"

"I'm worried about you. I heard shouting" he was going out on a limb here.

"It was nothing. Go."

Alarm bells rang in his head.

She closed the window again.

He stood there for a moment. He paced back and fourth a couple of times. He threw more pebbles at the window but still she would not respond.

He'd have to make her come to the window. But how?

He suddenly jumped onto the wooden wall, caught his balance and leapt for the nearest gutter. Somehow he caught it. He swayed in the wind as he caught his breath and then spun himself around to slowly clamber up the side of the house. He used the roof over the door for balance and then ran up it as fast as he could to get to her window.

He saw her inside before he knocked.

~::~

Rose was sitting on the bed staring into space when the window clicked with knuckles against it. She jumped when she saw a face in the night. She frowned when she saw it was Jacks.

She got up and opened the window. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Jack tried to get in but she blocked him. He couldn't see her face in the darkness.

"I had to see you" he said trying to keep his balance on the steep window frame.

"You've seen me now go."

"Rose please-" he was cut short when he lost his balance and nearly fell backwards out of the window.

Rose gasped and grabbed his shirt by the hands and pulled him into the room.

They both fell with a deafening crash onto the floor.

Jack lay on the floor with Rose over him.

Before they could think to do anything though, Rose heard brisk foot steps across the corridor heading for her room. She jumped up and stared at the door. "Get under the bed" she hissed as she closed the window.

Jack had hit his shoulder hard when he fell in but that didn't stop him running and crawling under her bed.

The door opened to a maid who had heard something.

"Is everything alright mistress?"

"Yes. Everything is fine" Rose said trying not to give herself away.

"It's just I heard a horrible crash." The maid was suspicious.

Rose tried to laugh it off "I was leaning out of the window when a tile under my hand slipped. It fell to the ground. That's what it was."

The maid hesitated not trusting and not believing. But still she resigned and left muttering something about telling the groundskeeper about it.

Rose let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. She quickly turned out the light to give the impression she was asleep. If Jack broke his neck climbing down it was his own damn fault.

Jack crawled out from under the bed after waiting a few seconds.

He was going to comment about her bedroom or how that was a close one when he saw Rose's face.

His smile dropped.

She looked right back at him from the other end of the bed.

"What happened to your face?" he asked.

"Nothing."

He walked around the bed and took her face in his hand. His thumb gently ran across her bruise.

He looked at her understanding. She couldn't take it any more and cried against him. He held the back of her head in his right hand and wrapped his arm around her waist with his left.

They looked at each other after a moment. Staggered by the concept of being in a semi private room and not in an open felid. This was also the first time they had been this close without a wooden picket fence painfully pressed against them.

They kissed. Neither knew who did so first. Perhaps they did it at the same time instinctually.

She felt his hands going across her body.

She half tripped half walked backwards so she fell flat on her back on her bed.

Neither realised or acknowledge this fact while they continued on with their original intent. Perhaps again it was instinctual or magnetic that drew Rose to the bed.

They stopped after they both needed air. For a split second they stared at each other in the eye. Rose could feel his hands on her hips. Jack could feel her knee against his waist.

Jack bent his head and kissed her again. In which Rose returned.

The bed squeaked when Jack put his full weight onto Rose.

~::~

If you haven't noticed I'm terrible at writing sex scenes so sorry about that! More action very soon.


	10. Fate

**A Purple Rabbit**

God the cheese, the sweetness…It's almost too much o_o I need to do something read something that has a bit of cynicism to it…Well anyway enjoy! Thanks to those who have favourited me and followed me. If you like my story please follow it! Just take two seconds! And if you could leave a comment: bonus! I haven't gotten one for so long…..

Chapter Ten: Hockley

She slept for a while after It.

She dreamt of nothing but soft clouds in her clear mind. She felt very content.

Her eyes stirred after one hour of sleep. She regained her senses relatively quickly given the circumstances. She shifted on her bed; she was on her stomach with her hair fanning over her back and face.

She tried to stretch out a little when she heard a voice say:

"Don't move!"

She froze and opened her eyes properly.

Jack was dressed (if not a little sloppily and wrinkled) on her chair…Sketching her of all things.

"What are you doing?" she asked staring at him.

"I wanted to draw you" Jack said grinning.

"You are ridiculous" she said good-naturedly.

Jack smiled affectionately at her.

He smiled again when he looked up and saw her back to her old position.

She had her hands under the pillow propping it up; her hair was combed out of her eyes. And the blanket was not like it was thrown over her but that it had now been pulled into strategic positions around her body. A small smile was now playing on her lips.

Jack finished with pushing the last of the excess lead and dust off of the paper.

"Finished?" she asked smiling at him with one eye open.

"Yes" Jack said getting into bed next to her.

She smiled back at him but she let her face fall.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

She had no idea what had just happened. When she was in boarding school the girls would whisper and giggle about It but none of them knew what it all meant. Apart from the odd diagram and talk from a nervous looking matron Rose had had no idea what sex was. Jack obviously didn't, he knew plenty. That much was obvious to her.

And she knew even less what happened after sex between the man and the woman. Especially if they were not married.

"I take it you're going to leave" she said simply as she pulled back on her nightdress.

"What do you mean?" he asked lying down properly to look at her back.

"I mean" she said pulling her dress down straight before facing him "that now we've…We've…"

Jack looked at her with his head on his arms smiling bemused at her looking for the right word.

"Fornicated" she said at last. That seemed detachable enough.

"I believe the term is: we made love" Jack said wrapping his arms around her.

"Either way. Now It's done, there will be no more reason for you to stay. By tomorrow you will have disappeared. I doubt I will even get a goodbye." She said slipping out of his arms.

He looked at her seriously but decided to be tactful so as not to undermine her well found fears, "you have so little faith in me."

"Can you blame me?"

"…No…But on the other hand you should trust me."

"Why?"

"Because you love me. And that should make you trust me."

He took her hand in his.

"Still…" she didn't know what would happen.

"Rose. I would never leave you."

"You sound so sure" she said with a rise of hope inside of her.

"Well, I should be. Because that's what we're going to do, we're going to stick together through thick and thin."

She looked at him with her hand on her cheek "really?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I swear on my last two cents" he said putting his right hand on his chest.

She shook her head at him her eyes rolling. "You don't have any money" she reminded him.

"I have savings, and besides" he said clambering on top of her "in a couple of nights time, I will have enough money to go all the way to Italy."

She had to turn her head to not let him see her blush.

"Then we'll be free Rose" he said, he gently stroked her cheek where the bruise was still visible "and we'll have each other forever."

She turned and looked at his serious tone, she believed him. She believed every word. She relaxed a little. "Are you going to sleep like that?" she asked as he laid his head over his arms which were resting on her chest.

Jack looked around without moving his neck "maybe" he said with mock-causality.

"Get off" she said turning over so he slide off of her; they both lay in the bed together so close they were nose to nose.

They held hands.

She fell asleep for the sky outside was still dark.

He watched her for a second. He felt more complete than he had done in nearly eight years of walking. He had finally found what he had been searching for all over the world…And it was only a state or two across the country he was born in.

He shifted himself closer to her and held her in his arms. He closed his eyes until he too slept.

~::~

They were both in her bed when the sun went up over the hill.

Jack tried to think of it as dawn and not as the morning. He tried to think of it as an illusion to himself

By soon reality took its toll.

He slowly leaned up and then sat up on the bed and put on his shoes.

"Tonight or tomorrow night" he said leaning over to her, after her confused look he elaborated "the poker game."

She nodded solemnly, "and then?"

"In a weeks time we will be jumping out of the gates and running to the nearest ship to: Italy."

She smiled at him. "Promise?" she asked wrapping her arms around him as he leaned closer to her.

"Yes I promise" he smiled, he unwound her arms "I'm late. And in trouble. I think I'm going to be ground bound for the next few nights."

She had to take his word, but for the first time in her life she followed her feelings and not her cynicism. She nodded to him.

They kissed one last time and Jack stayed for another ten minutes. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want her to feel like he was going to leave her. He had done that before with other girls but he would hate himself if he did that to Rose. She was different from the rest. He kept holding onto her for as long as he could. But then he had to go.

He slipped out of the house, careful not to be seen. He had to be quick so he fell out of the window. Rose looked out when she heard the thud; they smiled for a few more seconds until they heard voices shouting for Jack.

He ran.

She retreated.

Both were now marked forever.

~::~

Jack sat in the dark bunk house. He had been rewarded with a black eye and broken ribs for being late. And stuck in the bunk house for the next week. But for tonight all the men had forgiven him when he poured his savings onto the desk. Of course that looked like small fries when a drunk McGregor matched his move.

All in.

All the men were in. Enough for three ship tickets and then some.

The final round.

The men put their cards down onto the table.

Three lovely aces hit the table. Full house.

Jack's hand.

All the men gasped and McGregor slurred.

Jack pulled all of the money towards him.

One step he and Rose were to Italy…

~::~

Padding Padding Padding! Padding Padding Padding Sing it with me! Guess what's going to happen next, go really have a flying guess XD!

If you have any suggestions send me a review and I'll try to encompass it into the plot. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy! Please follow and favourite!


	11. Expectations

**A Purple Rabbit**

This is a one week later in terms of time scale. Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven: Expectations

Rose felt very light headed in the morning.

She put it down to nerves. Tonight she'd find out whether or not Jack would have won his bet.

She had packed a small bag with a few bits of food and articles of clothing she'd taken from the kitchen (both the food and the plain maid's dresses). She didn't want to draw attention to herself. She also managed to get her passport out of her father's office, although they did not travel as a rule, her father was always conscious that they'd have to do a midnight flit if a business deal went wrong. Paranoid old man.

He had become worse over the week. That might have something to do with how she had acted around the Hockley's. They had been together for a couple of parties, but she had made no effort to introduce herself. She had seen Cal Hockley before and they had had brief encounters but since Rose's father wanted her to go for him, he had been pressuring her to put herself out more.

Rose hated the family and how stuck up they were. Cal kept going around her like a lion on heat and the sisters were almost shrewish in their comments at parties.

She didn't make any effort because she knew it wouldn't matter if she and Jack were to go to Italy. The mere thought made her sick.

She suddenly felt sick.

Her body seemed to ripple in a cold wind.

Her mother who was at the other side of the room blurred.

She felt herself suddenly fall and hit the floor beneath her.

"Rose!" her mother screamed as she ran to her daughter's side.

~::~

"Mother, seriously I'm fine" Rose hissed in the doctor's office.

Her mother looked at her primly in the doctor's office. They had taken a number of tests and was seeing the results of the tests with his partners.

"Rose, if there's something wrong with you we have to fix it before the party tomorrow night."

Rose rolled her eyes.

The doctor came back in slowly.

"What is wrong with her doctor Gerald?" her mother asked the family doctor.

He looked at Rose and in that one look Rose knew that there was something wrong.

"Miss DeWitt Bukater, have you been married off without my knowledge or become engaged?"

"She has not" Rose's mother said for her.

The doctor nodded slowly. "I'm afraid; Miss DeWitt Bukater is in a terrible position Mrs DeWitt Bukater."

"Can I have a drink of water?" Rose asked slowly. She knew what was coming. She didn't bother for an answer and ran from the room.

She heard three words in the room and her mother crying.

Rose walked briskly down the corridor the words echoing in her head making her shake.

She carried on walking even when she heard people call her. She carried on walking when she heard her mother call for her in an enraged tone. She carried on walking even after she had gone through the doors of the building.

In fact she only stopped walking when she broke into a run down the road.

Almost like she was running from the words that were stinging the inside of her skull like bees:

"_Your daughter's pregnant Mrs DeWitt Bukater"_

"_Your daughter's pregnant…"_

"…_Pregnant…"_

She was…Pregnant…

~::~

Rose had run all the way out of the hospital straight home. She knew it was dangerous, but the sandy country roads seemed like the safest thing on earth compared to the grey metallic doctor's office.

She felt a lump in her throat as she came into the plantation. Please let him be there. Please let him be there. She thought to herself making a number of deals with the universe for him to be there.

Luck was on her side for once.

Jack stood in the grounds watching for her from the wrong direction, his smile made her heart leap. He was trying to trick her, act all woe be gone when she approached him and then say: "hey! I only won" or something like that.

For a moment she forgot her situation…But then she remembered and felt herself break.

She ran toward him, he only noticed her when she was a few feet away from him. She forgot her defences and put her arms around him.

Jack smirked "wow, a week away from me and you completely break on me."

It was then he felt her shake.

He took her shoulders and looked at her in the eyes "is there something wrong? What's the matter Rose?"

Tears fell from her cheeks.

He was really worried now "Rose, what is it?"

"Jack…I'm…I'm pregnant."

Jack stared at her as she looked down in shame.

She felt him take her in his arms and softly run his fingers through her hair. "It's going to be okay. I promise you it is" he spoke softly into her ear soothing her.

She looked at him with a resigned expression. His own face was not gloomless either but there was a sparkle in his eye which made her feel comforted.

"I admit Rose it's not ideal" he said in a serious voice "and I can't pretend it's going to be easy. But I love you and I hope you love me. I have the money to go to Italy and we can go now if we want."

Rose in later years wished she had said okay and they had jumped to the ship then and there but instead she looked away.

"What am I going to do?" she asked everything felt heavy and grey now compared to this bright morning.

Jack jumped over the fence but now with a smile on his face.

Her expression was so perplexed he had to explain himself:

"It's something to be happy over. It's life. New life. I can't be upset over that."

She shook her head at him but felt relieved at the same time. They kissed for what oddly felt like the last time.

She smiled at him through her tears.

Jack smiled back with a calmness which gave her all the assurance in the world.

"ROSE!" her mother called.

Rose turned to the house to see her mother in the doorway.

"It's mother, run" she hissed.

"No! Come with me! If she knows then I don't know what they're going to do with you!"

Rose nodded she wanted to run, but her mother was too close. She couldn't mother would hunt her down in a second.

"I can't jack. Go."

"Rose please."

"Go!"

"Rose?" her mother called approaching nearer.

"I'm coming" Rose called turning back.

Jack stared at her before running away. He'd go back for her later.

Rose walked her mother feeling dread wash over her when she saw her mother's face.

~::~

When Rose and her mother entered the house it was deadly quiet.

Her father stood under the stairs his hands and face tight.

"Well?" he asked for an explanation.

Rose looked at her mother. She didn't look at her in the eye.

Rose looked back at her father and swallowed. "I'm pregnant father" she said trying to be calm but her words shook.

Her father slapped her hard before she even stopped for breath.

"How dare you?" he asked shaking with rage.

"Why did you do it Rose?" her mother asked.

"Who's the father?" her own father asked.

"I don't know" Rose said quickly.

"She doesn't know" her father said to her mother sarcastically. "How can you not know? Are you trying to tell us that you are having a virgin birth? Praise be to the Lord!"

"Walter!" her mother shrieked for she was a hard core religious woman.

"I mean it!" he snapped at his wife before snapping to his daughter again "who is it?"

"I won't tell you" she snapped back at him.

"Oh you won't will you?" he asked rounding on her. "I will just have to get it out of you. Won't I?"

~::~

Review me!


	12. Separation

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Twelve: Separation

They locked her in another bedroom.

She howled and scratched at the door like an animal.

She found out later that they had done that so her father could wait with a gun in her room.

She heard the gunshot.

Jack had risked it and climbed up to try and run away with her.

Her father had shot too early.

Jack had just opened the window and was about to speak when the window frame had been shot at.

He fell from the shock alone.

The other gun shots after made him run all the more faster.

~::~

She could hear them talking.

She had been kept in her room for days. They wouldn't let her out.

On the third day she was feeling more and more like an animal in a shrinking cage. Her father and mother came in on that day.

"Who was it?" asked her father.

Rose glared at them.

"Tell us Rose" her mother said her voice an octave higher than usual.

"No" she said the one word she could not afford to say.

Her father grabbed her hair in his fist.

"Walter!" her mother squeaked.

"Tell McGregor to get all of the men out. He's on this plantation. I know that much. That's where you've been sneaking off to isn't it? Isn't it!"

"No!" Rose screamed holding onto the lie.

~::~

Jack stood in line with all of the rest of the men. He felt like his heart was going to burst. His legs shook and he felt shaky inside. He had been shot at last night, and he was sure he knew why he had been called here with the rest of the men.

Mr DeWitt Bukater walked out of the grand house. McGregor stood at the front of the men like a general before a captain. His riding crop behind his back.

Mr DeWitt Bukater pushed Rose in front of him.

Jack had to hold himself not to go for him.

"Who is it? Which one is it?" hissed her father into her ear.

"I don't know" she hissed back.

"Liar! Liar" her father shouted.

He turned to the men, he took a step forward. "Which one of you has…slept with my daughter" he seemed to resist the more uncouth words for sex. He acted like he was a scientist standing before a tribe of gorillas.

None of the men said anything. They knew from the look in his eyes that it would be foolish to laugh.

Her father stepped forward so he was now face to face with one "was it you? Have you slept with my daughter?"

The man shook his head paled.

"You?" he asked turning to another.

The man gave the same response.

He asked again and again each time becoming louder and redder in the face.

"IS THERE ANYONE HERE MAN ENOUGH TO TELL ME WHO SLEPT WITH MY DAUGHTER?" he screamed shaking with rage.

Silence.

He turned to McGregor "take them away!" he yelled. "I will decide how to deal with them later."

McGregor nodded and started to round them up.

Mr DeWitt Bukater suddenly changed tactic. He raised his hand stopping McGregor. "If nobody tells me right now who he is, I shall have all of you fired even if you had no part in this."

He looked around at the silent group.

He turned to leave.

"Jack Dawson" a man said from the crowd.

Her father wiped around quick "who said that? Who said that? Step forward."

There was a pause.

Until a man stepped out of line.

Tommy.

McGregor snarled at him.

Mr DeWitt Bukater stepped forward until he and Tommy where nose to nose.

"Why do you say that?" he asked calmly.

"He come in late after long walks."

"And?"

"He wasn't in the bunk house for a night."

"And?"

"…And once I saw him an yer daughter kissin'."

Tommy blurted it out quickly his eyes closed.

Jack was that speechless.

Rose could feel her body shaking.

Tommy turned and looked at Jack "I'm sorry boyo. I warned ye."

Everyone around Jack looked at him.

Rose's father didn't have to be genius (which he certainly was not) to figure out who was Jack.

As he approached all the men around Jack backed away.

Jack looked at him defiantly unashamed.

McGregor stood behind him, Mr DeWitt Bukater in front.

"So. You are him" her father said slowly.

He turned to Rose. "Is this your idea of choice? You couldn't pick gold out of rice."

"It's not him" Rose said feebly.

"Oh isn't it?" he asked sarcastically, he grabbed her arm and dragged her over to where the two men stood. He pushed her in front of Jack.

"I think you two make a good couple. As good as a bitch and a rat could make a family."

Rose looked down at her feet beaten.

"Rose" Jack said in a quiet voice, suddenly his hand was in hers.

She looked up at him.

He looked straight into her eyes.

She knew what he wanted to do.

They tried to run.

Scrabbling like mad.

He could run well.

But she couldn't run, not like this anyway.

He had to slow down for her. That's why they didn't get very far.

Jack could see that McGregor and her father and all the rest of the men were after them. He could see a gun in her father's hand.

Tommy was no where in site.

They had to stop. They were seemed miles away from the gate.

They held onto each other their arms wrapped around each other's necks. She tried to plead. He tried to beg.

Hands scrabbled to get them apart. Her father took her, McGregor and the rest of the men took him.

Every now and then one would struggle free and the bond would be formed again. But then the clawing grabbing hands would wrench them away again.

Rose was being pulled towards the house. Jack to the entrance to the plantation.

Rose had both of her parents.

Jack could feel Fabrizio pulling him and telling him to come with him.

At last Rose was pushed into the house with the front door locked.

At last Fabrizio managed to get the men off of Jack and started to pull him to the exit. Jack only needed a hit to the back of the head and the shine of a gun barrel to make him act.

They both ran with gun fire behind them.

Rose watched from the window seeing Jack get away.

Jack turned and looked back at the house. He tried to go back but Fabrizio pulled him away.

He turned and shouted something.

But it was lost to the wind and the other shouts of the men.

He then turned and ran with Fabrizio as fast as he could away.

Rose cried and screamed after him.

He did not hear.

…

All Rose knew was that she would never see Jack Dawson again.

…

~::~

Is that true? Tune in to find out!


	13. Crossroads

**A Purple Rabbit**

Chapter Thirteen: Crossroads

Rose sat in the chair overlooking the pathway stretching out from the door to beyond.

On her maddest days she was sure Jack would come strolling down the road as clean and smart as the day she first saw him.

He never came.

She had been moved to a holiday home. A different state. It felt like another world. It was green grass instead of brown dust.

Everyday she grew bigger.

Her father had refused to come.

She was trapped here for 3/4 of a year.

Her mother came.

It was stiff uncomfortable affairs.

Rose said nothing.

She said nothing.

The doctor said some things. He was here to look after Rose, along with a couple of maids and a cook. They all looked down on her like she was nothing but a common street whore. Maybe she was.

Sometimes the doctor tried to be cheerful. Strict. Indignant. Optimistic. Insightful. Brave. Etc. Etc. Sometimes Rose was sure that the only colour from this place came from his moods.

One day he said: "you're going to have to make special arrangements for when the babies arrive."

"Babies?" asked Rose's mother with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes…She's having twins."

Rose's mother did not visit her after that.

Rose was forced to be alone.

Just sitting on a chair before a window.

Looking out at an empty road.

~::~

I know this is short but please review! I really want to hear your comments! Or at least follow me.


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